Chapter 40 Tactics Against Mutant Forces

As Aria and Jacob stood by the entrance, talking quietly, Sierra happened to be walking through the academy’s gates. She spotted them from a distance. At first, Sierra thought nothing of it, assuming Jacob was just being his usual friendly self. But as she got closer, her eyes narrowed when she saw Jacob hand Aria something.

A sandwich. His favorite submarine sandwich.

The sight made her blood boil. She knew exactly what that meant. Jacob, giving up his food, something precious in the Beehive, meant he was trying to make up for something. And Aria, the last person Sierra wanted to see getting any kind of special treatment from Jacob, was standing there with a smile, accepting it like it was nothing.

For a moment, Sierra froze.

  "So that’s how it is now? "she thought, the jealousy curling up inside her.

  "Jacob’s giving his food to her?"

The anger built up inside Sierra like a pressure cooker. She had always been good at handling her emotions, but this? This was too much.

Her feet moved before she had time to think about it. She started marching toward them, fists clenched, ready to tell Aria off, maybe even knock her down a peg. She’d been simmering with resentment since Aria joined the academy and began making waves. But as she got closer, something made her stop.

Jacob was still talking to Aria, his voice low, but what caught Sierra’s attention was the way he was looking at Aria - his expression soft, almost like he liked her. And then there was that sandwich… Jacob’s food. The thought twisted in Sierra’s chest. It wasn’t just that he was talking to her; it was the way he was treating Aria - like she was someone who mattered, someone who was worth his time and his food.

"No. This can’t be happening. Are they...? Is he really getting close to her? What if he’s choosing her over me as his pilot? Was all the nice things he said to me just an act? And now with a more talented pilot around he just ditches me? No! This can't be! That woman! If only she kept it to herself! It's all her fault!"  

The irrational jealousy surged again, hotter this time. Sierra’s breath quickened, and she was about to take another step toward Aria when she saw Jacob's face - he was laughing, a carefree smile as Aria spoke to him. They looked… comfortable like they had shared more than just a meal.

"Screw this."

With a final glance, Sierra turned around and walked quickly away. Her heart pounded with frustration, her mind racing with thoughts of what this could mean. 

"So, Hale’s got Jacob’s attention now. Great. What next? Do you think you can just show up from nowhere and steal my pilot partner?! Not on my watch!"

She muttered to herself, her voice low and furious, "I’ll show her. I’ll put her in her place. Do you think you can just waltz in here and take everything from me? I'll show you what's up!" 

She clenched her fists.

 "This might hurt my credit account, but I’ll make sure she knows she’s not welcome. If she wants to play games, I’ll make her wish she never stepped foot in my world."

Aria followed Jacob to the classroom, where they took their seats as the buzz of whispered conversations rippled around them. She could feel the weight of everyone's stares - some were hostile, others curious - but she kept her gaze forward, not letting it bother her. She knew what they were thinking, but she’d been through enough to know better than to waste her energy on small minds. If they wanted to stare, let them.

Before anyone could approach or hurl a snide remark, Instructor West strode in, "Alright, everyone to their seats! Now listen up! Today's lesson is on tactics against mutant forces."

West activated the classroom’s holographic board filling the space with a simulated battlefield - an overhead map of a tank mech positioned in the heart of a ruined city, surrounded by mutants.

"Take a good look," West said, gesturing at the display.

 "This is your scenario for today. We’ve got a lone tank mech in the city ruins, surrounded by mutants. Now, who wants to tell me the best course of action?"

The room went silent as the students examined the scenario, a few nervously glancing at each other, unsure of the answer. The display showed a typical nightmare situation - tank mechs outnumbered, with rubble blocking some of the escape routes and mutants closing in on every side. It was a scenario that most rookie pilots feared, one that had spelled disaster for many soldiers in the past.

Instructor West’s eyes scanned the class, waiting. Finally, a girl with a ponytail from the academic group stood up and said, "I'd assess the building structures first, looking for any that might give a bit of height advantage. Positioning yourself higher helps because mutants are better at swarming at ground level. Use the tank mech’s thrusters to boost up if it’s too risky to stay on the ground. Then focus on clearing an exit path, shooting in calculated bursts to create enough space to escape. The goal here isn’t to engage them all but to break free from the trap without draining resources or getting pinned."

West shouted, visibly not impressed. 

"Wrong! Sit down, you have just been eaten by mutants! The thrusters are damaged, look closer next time at the information on the screen! Next!"

A musclebound student in the back, Chris, raised his hand with a self-assured smirk. His voice was loud and brimming with misplaced confidence. 

"Here’s what I’d do, sir! Simple: charge right through ‘em! We’ve got a tank mech, right? That thing’s built to take hits. I’d put it in full throttle, aim for the thickest part of the mutant horde, and just plow through ‘em with sheer force."

His friend Brody joined him.

 "Yeah! Exactly! Why waste time hiding or running when you can just smash through those freaks? Turbo on, go full steam ahead and let the mech do the talking. Plus, you squash a few of ‘em under as you go - mutants hate that!"

Chris added, "It’s all about muscle and momentum, right? The more mutants you flatten, the fewer you gotta deal with. They wouldn’t stand a chance against that much firepower!"

The rest of the class exchanged skeptical glances, a few trying to stifle laughs. Even West had to hold back a smirk. He took a long, deep breath before responding.

"Chris, Brody! You are both wrong! That’s a death wish rather than a strategy. Mutants don’t get intimidated by a mech charging at them - they’ll swarm it! This isn’t a demolition derby! Running in without a plan won’t keep you alive for long! Next!"

Harry, sitting near the front, cautiously raised his hand. He looked like he had been working up the courage for it, but before he could even get a word out, Instructor West’s face twisted into a look of annoyance.

With a sudden, sharp slam of his fist on the desk, West’s voice boomed, “NO, Harry! Not today! I am NOT in the mood for your usual nonsense!” 

His glare pinned Harry to his seat, his words striking like daggers.

 “And let me tell you something - there’s someone in this class who’d probably strangle you on the spot if they heard the garbage I’m sure you’re about to say. So do yourself, and everyone else, a favor: keep your CRAP to yourself, unless you’ve got something actually USEFUL to contribute. Something that’s going to help us kill these mutants faster. Otherwise - sit. Down. And stay. Quiet!”

Harry’s hand lowered slowly, his face flushing with embarrassment. He stammered, “Uh... No, sir. I... got nothing new to say.”