Chapter 6 : The Maverick

"Uni! Move to the right flank!"

I shouted amidst the barrage of enemy gunfire. They had surrounded our position, forcing Team 417 into the ruins of a building, using the debris as cover while returning fire.

"Captain, I’m out of ammo!" Filin yelled to me from behind.

"What?! Damn it! Hold your position! Don’t falter! We just need to hold out a bit longer!"

I swung my rifle from right to left, shooting at the enemies, fending off their attempts to flank us. I fired desperately. They just kept coming, emerging endlessly from their hiding spots to overwhelm us.

"Kh-... Ca-Captain... I’ve been shot."

I heard Maya’s strained voice through the radio. Quickly, I scanned the area to locate her. She was 10 meters northeast of me, taking cover behind a concrete block with blood dripping from her right arm.

"Uni! Get Maya to the backline!"

There was no response from Uni, even though she was positioned to Maya’s right, not far from her. Yet, she ignored Maya's injury and continued firing at the enemies hiding behind some metal wreckage.

"Uni! Hey!" I shouted, but she didn’t respond at all.

Firing a few covering shots to hold the enemy at bay, I stepped out from my cover and sprinted towards Maya, who was surrounded by enemy fire. I ignored my surroundings, unaware that an enemy Viper Unit had locked its laser rifle on me.

"CAPTAIN!!!"

A flash of light burst from the enemy’s rifle, heading straight for me.

CRASSSHH!!!!

Someone darted in to shield me from the enemy fire. It was Chris, who leaped in my direction to block the shot. The laser hit her instead, and she fell hard to the ground.

"CHRIS... HEY, CHRIS!!!"

Damn it... Damn it! This is my fault for not paying attention... Chris... Chris is...

BEEEEEEP!!!

"Alright, the simulation is over," a voice announced through a speaker as the loud alarm blared. The building debris and Warfoes disappeared from view, retracting into the floor. The battlefield hologram transformed into an empty room with gray metallic walls and flooring, and the room’s lights flickered back on.

We were inside the Fenris Simulation Room. The space, roughly the size of a basketball court, had various settings for different battle scenarios. I recalled my first time entering Fenris. They had me survive an enemy assault alone in a facility-like environment.

This time, we were simulating a scenario where we had to defend a location in an urban mission, holding our ground for 15 minutes until reinforcements arrived.

But we failed, with too many casualties during the mission, and the enemy reaching the target.

"Get up, Chris. How long are you planning to lie there?"

Chris was lying on her back with a red stain on her clothes. She had been shot by the Viper Unit while shielding me.

"Tell my mom... I love her... ugh." She turned her head dramatically and closed her eyes, mimicking a soldier uttering their last words.

"I said get up."

BAM!

"Ow! You didn’t have to flick my forehead, Captain!"

I flicked her forehead to make her get up, then approached the rest of the team, who were cleaning up their gear.

"Maya, is your arm okay?"

"Captain... it’s just paint ammo... no need to worry."

I looked at Maya’s arm, which was streaked with red paint. Even though it was just a simulation, the enemy’s paint rounds still hurt when they hit us.

"Uni, why didn’t you follow my orders earlier?"

Uni stood off in the distance, staring into space. Once again, she didn’t respond to my radio call during the exercise. What’s wrong with her today?

"Erm... Captain? I didn’t hear anything on the radio except for the enemy gunfire..."

"You didn’t hear anything?"

"That’s right."

She removed her communicator, which was splattered with paint, rendering it inoperable. So that’s why she couldn’t hear my orders.

"Filin, why was your aim so off? You wasted so much ammo and only managed to take down five enemies."

"Captain... the enemies kept moving around... it was hard to hit them."

**OF COURSE THE ENEMIES MOVE DURING A BATTLE!!!**

"You... Hah..." I facepalmed at her excuse. She’s a sniper, for crying out loud. She should know enemies won’t just stand still during combat—they’ll dodge and move to avoid getting shot.

"Work on your accuracy, Filin. A sniper’s role is vital to the team. Every shot you take can protect a teammate’s life." I patted her shoulder and walked past him towards the exit of the Simulation Room.

"Team, we’ll take a break for now."

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"Hah..."

I let out a sigh as I sank into the sofa near the Simulation Room. Stretching out my legs, which ached from constant running and carrying the heavy gear and weaponry, I tried to ease the fatigue.

Today, we had been assigned to train, ensuring the team’s combat readiness until the next mission. The schedule was rigorous: physical training from 6 a.m. to 8 a.m., followed by a one-hour break for showering and breakfast. Shooting practice lasted from 9 to 10 a.m., and finally, Combat Simulation Training in the Simulation Room from 1 to 3 p.m.

I stared out the large glass window in front of me. Outside, the weather was dark and stormy, with heavy rain and rumbling thunder echoing in the distance. Stormy weather—my least favorite. Fighting in such conditions is terrifying; poor visibility due to darkness and rain makes it hard to locate incoming fire. A situation I can only describe as pure SNAFU.

"Three simulations and all failures. Was yesterday’s mission just luck, Captain Ruger?"

Julia’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as she exited the Simulation Control Room. She handed me a document detailing the results of each simulation.

"Where are the others?" I asked.

"I sent them back to the quarters ahead of us."

"Got it."

Glancing at the document, I was met with numbers and statistics that made my eyes ache. Deciding against analyzing it further, I set it aside and returned to enjoying the stormy scene outside.

"Recklessness, lack of situational awareness, and poor equipment selection. Those are the main errors on your part, Captain," Julia commented, sitting beside me. She handed me a can of soda, clearly preparing to lecture me.

"Well, even if the missions failed, I noticed some improvement in Team 417," she added, opening her soda with a hiss.

"Improvement?" I echoed, cracking open my drink as well. I was parched after all the shouting and running around during the simulation.

"Yeah. Usually, they’d just scream at each other and shoot randomly. But now, they seem better because someone is leading them in combat. Chris even leaped to protect you earlier—ha!"

Is that true? From what I observed, it didn’t feel like it. Sure, there were fewer instances of chaos compared to before, but we were still plagued by coordination issues and technical mistakes. And Chris? She was far too reckless, throwing himself at me to block enemy fire.

It’s not like I’m clueless. I had planned to dodge that shot. Laser rifles give off a glow before firing because they need to charge first.

"Julia..."

"Hm? What is it, Captain?"

I had been pondering something since yesterday when I met Private Jackson. The captain of Team 101 mentioned they were a "Red Team" or "Fireteam," but I didn’t understand what she meant. Now seemed like a good time to ask Julia about it.

"Do you know what ‘Red Team’ and ‘Fireteam’ mean?"

"Bhu—!"

Julia suddenly choked on her soda, spitting it out in surprise. She coughed uncontrollably as my question seemed to catch her off guard.

"Cough... cough... I forgot to explain that to you... ugh..."

Some Tactical Commander she is...

"Ahem, alright, let me explain it to you now."

And so began Julia’s impromptu lesson:

"Every team in Fenris is assigned a color code. These codes are divided into three categories: Red, Green, and Blue. Teams wear armbands corresponding to their colors during missions," Julia explained. Then, she muttered under her breath, "I also forgot to give your team their armbands..."

"Red Teams, also known as Fireteams, consist of one captain and four Battle-Frame personnel. Like any standard team, they handle high-stakes missions, such as rescuing VIPs, eliminating enemy Queen Units, and other dangerous tasks on the front lines.

"Green Teams are responsible for supply operations, including resource gathering and delivering logistics to the front. In short, they’re the backbone of our supply chain."

That explains why I saw some people wearing green armbands earlier.

"And finally, Blue Teams. These teams focus on intelligence gathering for Fenris. Their missions involve scouting, patrolling sectors, and reconnaissance."

"So, what kind of team is 417—the team I lead?" I asked, curious about our classification.

"You’re a Blue Team. Team 417 falls under Blue Team operations. Follow me to the Information Department; I forgot to hand out your team’s armbands."

Seriously... this Tactical Commander is beyond unreliable.

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I followed Julia to the Information Department to pick up the armbands she had neglected to distribute. Walking behind her along a corridor lit by bright blue neon lights, I wondered why she’d forgotten such an important detail.

Suddenly, a girl bumped into me at a junction in the hallway. She was wearing the same formal uniform as Julia—blue with black and yellow trim.

"Sorry, I’m in a hurry," she said breathlessly, drenched in sweat. Without waiting for a reply, she continued running in the same direction we were headed.

What’s going on? Why is she in such a rush?

"Wait here for a moment. I’ll head inside," Julia said, showing her ID card to a scanner beside the door to unlock it.

From outside, I could hear the commotion within—raised voices and the faint static of radios. Intrigued, I slipped off one of my shoes and wedged it in the door before it closed, allowing me to eavesdrop.

Technically, this was illegal. But something about the tense atmosphere made me uneasy.

"You’re late, Karen! What’s the status of Team 101? Can you still reach them?"

"I lost contact a few minutes ago. What about the other airborne teams?"

Team 101? Airborne teams? Were they discussing the mission Jackson mentioned last night? The one where her team would be deployed deep in enemy territory?

"Sir, there’s a problem with Teams 87, 63, and 35 as well. We’ve lost contact with them. Their visuals disappeared shortly after their radios failed."

"Three teams at once?! How is it possible that all four teams we deployed are out of contact?"

"Their last known coordinates were at Point Edelweiss, 30 minutes ago. We haven’t been able to track them since, sir!"

"Do we have a satellite issue? There shouldn’t be any problems, even in this storm!"

The heated discussion revealed critical details. An airborne operation was underway, but three out of four teams had gone dark, and Team 101—Jackson’s team—was also unreachable. My unease deepened as I pieced the situation together.

"Quick, establish contact with Team 101 again, Karen! What are you waiting for?!"

“I’ve got a connection with Team 101! Putting it on the screen now!”

I peered through the slightly open door, catching sight of a satellite feed projected onto a large screen. It displayed Team 101’s position in Sector 27.

“This is Captain Jackson McPeterson of Team 101. We’re surrounded by Warfoe units.”

The sound of rapid gunfire echoed through the room as Jackson’s voice resonated, filled with tension.

“Where is your current position, Team 101?”

“We’re 500 meters southeast of Point Tulip. We’re... pinned down by enemy Warfoe. Gha—”

“Captain Jackson, have you been hit?”

“Unfortunately... yeah, shot in the stomach. Hrngh…”

“Captain, hold on! Stay strong!” A young woman’s voice chimed in, presumably one of the Battle-Frame soldiers fighting alongside him.

“Captain Jackson, do you have contact with the other teams?”

“No... nothing. We’ve completely lost touch with them. Odds are, they’re surrounded too. It feels like the enemy was tipped off about the mission details.”

“Captain Jackson, I’m ordering Team 101 to retreat immediately. We’ve provided the L.Z. coordinates.”

Jackson’s labored breathing was audible, each word drenched in pain. He was injured, trapped in the heat of battle, but he responded with grim determination.

“Negative, sir... retreat isn’t an option.”

“The extraction route is clear. You can evacuate now—”

“We can’t leave, sir. We’ve found a shelter full of refugees. If we abandon it... the Warfoe will slaughter them all.”

The man leading the discussion slammed his fist against the desk in frustration. His words became indistinct as anger overtook him.

Team 101 was in grave danger. They were surrounded, protecting a shelter filled with civilians. If they fell, the refugees would undoubtedly face a horrific massacre.

"Captain Ruger? What are you doing? Why is the door jammed?"

“Julia... open the door for me.”

“What? This area is restricted—”

“Just this once, open it.”

Julia hesitated before reluctantly scanning her ID card, granting me access. As the door slid open, the chaos inside the information room became clear. Staff members scrambled, trying desperately to reestablish connections with other teams.

“What about the other teams?”

“They’re all on missions, sir! Only a Green Team and one Blue Team remain!”

“We can’t send supply units to assist. Which Blue Team is available?”

“Team 417.”

I stepped into the room, hearing Jackson’s strained voice still coming through the radio. The cries of terrified civilians and the wails of children echoed alongside the relentless gunfire. The refugees were clearly in dire straits, and there were far too many of them to fend for themselves. The sound of battle only grew louder.

“Send Team 001! Aren’t they returning to base?”

“They just completed a mission and are currently in a helicopter headed to Fenris. It’ll take two hours to redirect them back to Sector 27!”

“Then send them immediately!”

Standing in the room’s center, I listened to Jackson’s radio feed, where panic was palpable. The screams of the helpless refugees, the cries of the injured, and the ceaseless cacophony of gunfire brought back painful memories.

“What about Team 417? Isn’t Sector 27 closer to us?”

I spoke up, my voice cutting through the frantic chatter. All eyes turned to me, filled with confusion and surprise at my presence in the restricted area.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

“Are you seriously asking that? Captain Ruger Schmitt. Leader of the 417th. The team you just dismissed outright.”

One of the staff members, a woman, hesitated before adding, “Technically, sending Team 417 would only take fifty minutes…”

“No. Team 417 is inexperienced. They’re not ready for a mission this dangerous,” the man dismissed coldly.

“In that case, send me alone. Not as a team—just me.”

“What absurdity are you—”

“Every minute we waste here arguing, Team 101 and those refugees are dying!” My voice thundered, silencing the room.

The cries of the children and the groans of the wounded reverberated in my head. I had been in their shoes before—trapped, surrounded, and helpless. I refused to let it happen again.

“They’ll be massacred if we don’t act now. Sending Team 001, two hours away? When we’re here, at Fenris?”

“I won’t send you or your team on a suicide mission!”

Even as he shouted his refusal, I clenched my fists. Memories of the past resurfaced—the innocent butchered by merciless machines, desperately clinging to life in a broken world. It was an agony I couldn’t bear to relive.

“I’m going.”

“This is an order, Captain Ruger! Disobey, and you and Team 417 will face severe consequences!”

Despite the threat, I couldn’t back down. Every second we delayed meant lives lost. I couldn’t let that happen.

“I joined Fenris to kill Warfoe,” I declared, stepping forward. “To protect humanity.”

Ripping off my Fenris uniform, I cast it aside. If wearing it meant letting innocent lives perish, I wanted no part of it.

Ignoring the frantic shouts of staff and even Julia, I bolted from the room. My goal was clear—I had to act.

I raced to my quarters, grabbing my combat gear as quickly as possible. Time was running out.

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BANG!

I kicked the door to the 417th team office open with full force, barging in even as rainwater dripped from my soaked boots and clothes. Ignoring the startled stares of my team, I peeled off the drenched uniform and flung it aside as I stormed past them.

“Captain! Why are you soaking wet and... completely out of breath?” Chris called out, concern laced in her voice. But I brushed him off, heading straight for my locker on the right side of the room. I pulled out dry clothes, quickly changing into them while slipping on the armored vest stored there.

“Captain… are you alright?” Maya asked cautiously, stepping closer as I stood by the table, sliding magazines into my FR-20. I grabbed the spare magazines scattered across the table, stuffing them into the vest’s pouches.

As I turned to leave, the doorway was blocked by Filin, who raised an arm to stop me.

“Where are you planning to go, Captain, fully geared like that?” she asked, her expression unreadable.

“It’s better if you don’t get involved. Step aside, Filin.”

“No, not until you explain what’s going on.”

“Move.”

My patience was wearing thin. My hand gripped the rifle, and I was about to raise it when Uni’s voice cut through.

“You wouldn’t point a weapon at your own team, would you, Captain Ruger?” she said sharply.

“Not if Filin gets out of my way. Besides, I’m no longer your captain.”

“W-What did you just say?!” The shock was evident in their voices as they all froze.

“You can’t possibly mean that, Captain. You’re joking, right?” Maya stammered.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” I shot back, my eyes hard with determination.

“At the very least, tell us why,” Filin demanded.

I exhaled a deep breath, steadying myself. Then, with a grim expression, I began.

“Team 101 is in danger. An airborne mission involving four teams—Team 87, Team 63, Team 35, and Team 101—has gone awry. The other three teams have lost all contact. Team 101 is currently engaged in battle, surrounded by Warfoe forces, trying to protect a shelter filled with refugees.”

I paused, letting the weight of the situation settle.

“Headquarters is sending Team 001, but they’re two hours away from Sector 27. Team 101 doesn’t have two hours. I proposed deploying Team 417 to assist, but the higher-ups rejected it.”

“Then why did you—”

CLICK

I chambered a round, switching my rifle from safe to semi-auto mode. If they didn’t let me leave, I was ready to fire a warning shot.

“I’m not going to let those refugees or Team 101 die in vain. That’s why I’m going. Alone.”

I raised my rifle, pointing it directly at Filin, who remained calm despite the barrel aimed squarely at her face.

“Step aside, Filin. I don’t want to hurt you, but I must stop Warfoe from killing those people.”

“Go ahead, Captain. I’m not stopping you. However…”

CLACK!

The sound of rifles being cocked behind me made me freeze. Turning around, I found the rest of my team fully geared, weapons at the ready, and all pointed at me.

“Captain… we’re a team. We stick together, no matter what,” Maya said firmly.

“It wouldn’t be fair if you got to go on a rescue mission without me. Chris, the coolest guy here, is coming with you!” Chris declared, puffing out her chest as she held her Kriss Vector aloft.

“Filin, grab your weapon. We’re moving out,” Uni ordered. Filin, who had silently slipped away from the door, returned with her Dragunov SVU, already loading a magazine.

“Everything’s set, Captain. Feel free to head out… but we’re coming with you,” Filin said nonchalantly, her smirk barely hidden.

“This mission is incredibly dangerous,” I tried to reason with them. “Even Headquarters has forbidden it. You’ll all face severe consequences.”

“I don’t want to involve you in this,” I pleaded, my voice faltering. “This is my decision. Not yours.”

But their resolve didn’t waver. They stared back at me with unyielding determination, their eyes clear and unwavering.

“Our answer’s simple, Captain,” Chris said with a grin.

“We’re a team. We’re in this together,” Maya echoed.

“No matter what, we stick together,” Uni added with finality.

I looked at them, my infuriating, insubordinate, impossible team. They were reckless, stubborn, and far more troublesome than any Warfoe I’d ever faced. Yet, these robotic Battle-Frames—these people—were the closest thing I had to comrades.

“Fine,” I relented with a resigned sigh. “Our first objective is…”

A grin broke across my face despite myself.

“To steal a helicopter.”