Princess Knights I

Leena greeted Graham with a scowl as he, Ace, and Maya stepped off the Mach Red. Around the Ganymede, these little acts of rebellion were just like any other day, especially for Ace. But for the newcomers? Unthinkable. This was nothing any handbook or training could’ve prepared for. Even so, Anton and a few others seemed downright thrilled it happened.

Ace ruffled Leena’s hair on the way past.

“Relax, Marida. Standard operating procedure.”

Leena swatted his hand away. “What kind of S.O.P. is that? And why do I get to be Marida?”

“Because ‘round here, I get to call people whatever I want,” Ace grinned, sauntering into the hangar crowd.

Anton smirked, thumb brushing his chin. “Weird pick. If it were me, I’d pick another reference to call you by. I’d say—”

“Not. Another. Word.”

Leena stomped off before Anton could christen her with another nickname. She turned her glare on Graham and Maya.

Maya clung to Graham’s side, awkward and flushed. Her embarrassment condensed into beads of sweat. Leena’s eyes narrowed.

“Sorry we worried you,” Graham said, steady.

“You two sure hit it off,” Leena muttered, her eyes focusing on where Maya’s and Graham’s arms intertwined. “Could’ve mistaken you for a couple.”

Maya blinked, flustered. She slinked her grip away from Graham’s arm. “A couple? Oh no—we’re nothing like that!”

Not a couple, huh? Yet another direct hit at Graham’s heart.

“Yeah, it’s, uh… nothing like that,” he echoed, stopping himself from adding ‘yet’.

Anton suddenly slung an arm around Graham, grinning.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You disappear for a day and come back with a girl wrapped around you? Who’s this beauty, loverboy?”

Graham blinked. He’d forgotten Maya didn’t look like herself. Even Anton couldn’t recognize her at a glance. Maybe that was for the best—until Maya decided otherwise.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, smiling gently. “I’m Maya Hamasaki. Heir to the Sankaku Corporation.”

Anton froze. “M-Maya… Hamasaki?”

He stared. Replayed her voice. Reconstructed her face. If her hair were darker, maybe black, then—

“Maya Hamasaki?!”

Maya may have wanted to think otherwise, but being the heir of a corporation wasn’t her claim to fame. It was something else—something she knew as a fact.

Anton’s voice echoed through the bay. One of the younger mechanics turned.

“What…? Maya Hamasaki’s here?!”

Within seconds, the entire maintenance crew swarmed. Grease-stained scraps were shoved toward her, begging for autographs. Some were starstruck fans; others just wanted bragging rights. Anton practically threw a page from his journal at her.

“Oh my. P-please, one at a time…” Maya signed each slip as best she could, overwhelmed but smiling.

Graham sighed, feeling a little winded and a little forgotten. Leena nudged him with her shoulder.

“You know what? I’m not even gonna ask the details,” she said. Her eyes tracked to Maya, lingering at the base of her neck, looking for any trace of those marks. “I think all this speaks for itself.”

“Ace offered. I just took the chance.”

“Didn’t think you’d pass it up,” she muttered, brushing hair off her glasses.

With each autograph, the small but unorganized crowd dwindled. When it finally dispersed, Leena gave Graham a small shove forward. He glanced at her in confusion.

She crossed her arms and smiled faintly. “You didn’t go all this way just for other guys to gawk at her, did you?”

He gave a nod. A message she understood just as well.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Maya turned to him, amused. “Not going to ask for my autograph as well, are you?

Anton raised a hand. “Yeah, you totally should—”

Leena yanked him back by the collar. Her iron stare shut him up. Anton yelped. Message received. This was Graham’s moment.

“No, I…” Graham faltered. Now that she was here… what now? This wasn’t a date. It wasn’t a meet-and-greet. Bringing her aboard the Ganymede had weight—a decision that could change things.

Sensing the unease, Maya tugged on his sleeve.

“A little stuffy in here, isn’t it?” she asked, fanning her neck.

“Hard to get used to the oil and grease. Hits a little different when you don’t spend a dozen hours a week around it, huh?”

“Truly,” she said with a pointed glance, like she wanted something from him. “What say we get some fresh air?”

Graham looked out the open hangar bay, seeing only an endless stretch of rocky badlands.

“What, there?”

Maya pouted, her eyes drooping like a puppy’s. “We can’t?”

Graham straightened. “N-no! Of course we can!”

Maya laughed. “Come on, you silly. Why are you so nervous?”

“I-it’s just—”

“Good grief!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him through and out the hangar doors, into the badlands. Once they were alone, she let go. Her air of formality loosened, too. “You don’t have to act so weird around me.”

“It’s just that… you’re you,” Graham said quietly. “And I’m me. I’m starting to realize that.”

She exhaled. “Because I’m famous, and you’re not?”

“At the end of the day, I’m just a fan, aren’t I?”

“Just a fan?” Maya planted her hands on her hips. “Let’s count the ways, shall we? You saved me from the mercs. Then, you fought and won a fight against a B-ranker. Then you came over and literally flew me out of the embassy. That’s not fan behavior.”

Maya kicked up the dust under her shoe, a little antsy but also excited.

“That’s hero behavior.”

Graham smiled weakly. “Fans can be heroes too.”

“But that was amazing—like, really amazing.” She pointed back in the direction of Espada City, as if to threaten to return. “And if you don’t concede how amazing you are, then I’ll just—”

“Alright!” Graham threw up his hands. “I’m amazing.”

Maya giggled, watching him wobble as he tried to own it. “Much better. You’re more than a fan. You’re someone I’d be proud to call a friend.” She leaned in closer. “Or maybe… you’d like to be called my partner?”

“P-partner?” His heart skipped.

If he downplayed it, he’d be back to friend territory. Now that he’s here, he couldn’t have that now, could he?

“Yes. You heard me.” Maya leaned against him, smiling coyly. “I’ve got a lot to do here in Astonia. So I’d like you to be my partner-in-crime. Sound good?”

Graham nodded, afraid to speak. “Of course. I’d be honored.”

“Good.” Maya glanced around the dusty expanse. “Sooo, partner—know anywhere we can actually get fresh air? This place is all dirt and fumes.”

Graham traced a path with his eyes—up scaffolding, past the bridge, to a canopy overlooking the Ganymede. It was a bit of a climb, but the vantage would be perfect.

“Well then, partner,” he said, puffing his chest. “I know a place. But only if you’re willing to do a little climbing.”

Maya flexed her dainty arms. “I may not look it, but I’m quite athletic. Don’t underestimate an idol!”

####

Ace plopped down on a couch inside the Ganymede’s lounge, cracking open a bottle of sparkling juice. The fizz hissed sharply as he brought it to his lips. He sipped gingerly, as Captain Chiara eyed him from across the room.

She wore the pants of a military dress uniform, but only a black shirt on top—casual, almost careless.

“You’re still getting ready?” Ace swirled the juice in his mouth. “No need to make a splash in front of the newbies. Just show up and do your thing.”

Chiara tapped her foot, leaning back against the wall. “You did it again, huh? I didn’t give you clearance to drive the Mach Red into the city. That could’ve landed us in trouble with the authorities.”

“We’re already in enough trouble as it is. What’s one more?” Ace shrugged.

“We have new members coming in, and the first thing you do is set a bad example.”

“Bad example?” Ace drained his bottle and plunked it back to the table. “Au contraire. I gave them a proper taste of the Astrea’s Renegades spirit. I mean, it’s in the goddamn name.”

Chiara shook her head. “It’s not just that. It’s—”

“Hamasaki?” Ace cut in. “Look, you’re the one who took the kid in. He clearly has some issues. I’m just making sure he operates as close to a hundred percent as possible when the time comes. I’m not about to team up with some mopey young adult who can’t keep his head straight.”

“Hamasaki is trouble.”

Ace gave a lazy grin. “So she is.”

“And you still—”

“If he’s going to be part of the unit,” Ace said, rising from the couch and giving Chiara a nudge. “Then he’d better pull his weight. You and I both know what happens to Chevaliers with problems.”

Chiara let out a breath.

Before they arrived in Espada City, the Renegades had two other Chevaliers in their combat roster. Both cracked under pressure. Young, talented, but weighed down by personal baggage. Their morale tanked. They lost matches. Eventually, they quit.

Even Ace needed time to get his own issues in check when he first joined up years ago.

Chiara tried to run the Renegades like a military unit, personal issues be damned. But in the end, this wasn’t war. This was a sport—half profession, half pastime, all performance.

“I’m not letting us tap out of the CWG this early,” Ace said. “Let’s go farther this time.” He flashed that familiar confident, lopsided grin. “And hey, I haven’t made a bad call all season yet, have I?”

Chiara couldn’t argue with that.

“...Fine. I trust your judgment. But whatever fallout comes from bringing Hamasaki in—it’s your responsibility.”

Ace chuckled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Just then, the lounge door hissed open. A young, short-haired man in a green military-styled uniform stepped in—and immediately turned away, face flushed, when he saw Chiara only half dressed.

“Well? Spit it out,” Chiara said, unbothered.

“C-captain,” he stammered. “You’re needed on the bridge. An unidentified cheval just approached our position a few minutes ago.”

Chiara’s brow twitched. “Alone?”

“Yes, ma’am. Looks like a Phantom-class. But… it’s a custom unit.”

“I see.” Chiara slipped on a short yellow blouse over her shirt, buttoning it only two tiers up. She gave Ace a silent nod.

He followed her without a word.

The three moved quickly to the Ganymede’s bridge. A massive horizontal window overlooked the dusty badlands beyond. Crew members worked at their station, each absorbed in their respective roles. At the center, a single cushioned chair of the captain awaited.

“What’s the sitch?” Chiara asked, striding forward and dropping into the chair. Ace leaned casually over the backrest.

A young woman at the helm turned. “Phantom-class cheval has stopped about three hundred meters off our starboard. It just closed in at fifty meters. I can’t ID it. Doesn’t match any CWG registry.”

Chiara frowned. “A bit too close for comfort, isn’t it?”

“Yes—but no signs of hostility, ma’am.”

A lone bandit? Unlikely. Bandits never showed up solo—always in packs. And no hostility either? Curious.

“It sent a message earlier,” the young man from earlier reported.

“What kind of message?”

He read it aloud:

[“Renegades. I only request the return of the auburn-haired girl posthaste. I have no ill intent otherwise. But I will consider if the demand is not met.”]

Ace grinned. “Oh, wonderful.”

Chiara shot him a menacing glare. “Barely two hours and your little experiment’s already gone haywire.”

“Relax,” Ace said, waving it off. “Still within parameters.”

Another message came in.

Ace read it. He couldn’t help but beam the widest smile he could. “See? We can outsource the hazing after all,” he said, before he bolted from the bridge and headed for the hangar.

It looked like someone was already deciding things for the Renegades by themselves.

Chiara rested her jaw on her fist, and muttered, half to herself.

God help us.

The second message had read:

[“I accept your challenge.”]