I Choose the Skills Everyone Else Rejects

Nate left Royal Field Academy before sunrise.

The transfer order had given him one night to pack, which was more than enough. Most of what he owned still fit inside the same bag he had brought on the train.

He paused outside the dormitory entrance with the strap over one shoulder.

Nobody was waiting.

Ethan had not sent another message after their argument. Iris was probably still in the infirmary. Mara had never been the kind of person who appeared at someone’s door just because they were leaving.

Nate told himself he preferred it this way.

He crossed the empty courtyard toward the military transport waiting beyond the southern gate.

Dacre stood beside it with Nate’s transfer file tucked under one arm.

"Your circulation restriction still applies."

"Last Contact knows?"

"They received your complete report."

So they knew about his First Circuit, the restricted method he had used to close it, and what had happened to Derren.

Nate looked past Dacre toward the academy buildings.

Lights were already burning in one of the upper training halls. Someone inside was awake and improving while most of the campus still slept.

Ethan would still be here tomorrow.

Nate might not.

"Am I coming back?" he asked.

Dacre took a moment before answering.

"If the investigation clears you, the academy can request your return."

"Can."

"Yes."

Nate opened the rear door.

"Calder."

He looked back.

Dacre’s expression had not changed, but his voice had.

"Last Contact is not corrective training."

"I figured."

"You probably didn’t."

Nate climbed inside.

Dacre closed the door.

The Last Contact depot sat beyond the eastern military district, where the capital’s polished stone buildings gave way to warehouses, repair yards and concrete barracks.

Nothing marked it as an important military unit. A number painted beside the reinforced front gate was the only identification Nate could see.

The driver showed his transfer order to a guard.

The gate opened.

Three damaged transports occupied the yard. One was missing most of its front armour. Another had dark stains across the rear compartment that somebody had tried and failed to scrub out.

People moved between the buildings in mismatched equipment.

Some wore military uniforms.

Others wore whatever had apparently survived their last assignment.

A shaved-headed man carried two ammunition crates while a metal collar rested around his throat. Near the workshop, a woman smoked with prisoner numbers visible beneath the sleeve of her jacket.

Nobody looked like an academy cadet.

The driver stopped beside the smallest barracks.

"Administration."

Nate climbed out.

"Where do I leave my bag?"

The driver was already closing his door.

"Ask administration."

The transport pulled away.

Nate watched it disappear through the gate.

"Efficient."

"Could be worse."

The voice came from behind him.

A man sat on the barracks steps with a cup balanced on one knee.

He looked a few years older than Nate. His dark hair had been cut badly enough that Nate doubted a professional had been involved. A narrow scar disappeared beneath his jaw.

The man nodded toward the bag.

"Transfer?"

"Yes."

"Crime?"

Nate frowned.

"I’m not a prisoner."

"Neither am I."

The man drank from the cup.

Nate waited.

"That wasn’t much of an answer."

"Kellan Rook."

"Nate Calder."

"I know."

Nate’s attention sharpened.

Kellan noticed.

"Your file arrived last night. Academy cadet. Strange Variant Class. Restricted Circuit method. Dead student."

Nate tightened his grip on the bag.

Kellan lifted the cup slightly.

"I read it. I didn’t write it."

"You have access to transfer files?"

"No."

"Then how did you read mine?"

Kellan smiled.

"That’s a better question."

The barracks door opened before Nate could ask another.

A broad man in a dark field coat stepped outside.

"Rook."

Kellan’s smile disappeared.

"Captain."

"Stop bothering the transfer."

"He looked bored."

The captain ignored that and faced Nate.

His left cheek carried the uneven texture of an old burn. Two metal bands circled his right forearm beneath the coat sleeve.

"Captain Orin Cade. You report to me until command decides where you belong."

Nate offered him the transfer order.

Cade barely glanced at it.

"I already have it."

"Does everyone here read my file before meeting me?"

"Only the people deciding whether you’ll get them killed."

Cade pointed toward the barracks.

"Locker seventeen. Leave the academy jacket."

Nate looked down at the dark academy crest on his chest.

"Why?"

"You’re not representing them on my missions."

Nate went inside.

Locker seventeen had belonged to other people.

He could tell because three names had been scratched through beneath the number.

The newest was still readable.

PELL.

Nate stored his bag and removed his academy jacket.

Kellan leaned against the lockers nearby.

"How long have you been here?" Nate asked.

"Three months."

Nate looked at the crossed-out names.

"That enough time to learn what this place is?"

"Enough to stop asking for the official answer."

Cade entered carrying a folded field vest.

"Put this on."

Nate caught it.

The vest carried no unit emblem. A small terminal had been fixed near the left shoulder.

Cade tapped it.

NATE CALDER

FIELD STATUS: PROVISIONAL

MERIT: 0

"Last Contact uses field merit," Cade said. "Mission completion earns base credit. Contribution earns more. Confirmed kills, recovered intelligence and authorized salvage can add to it."

"What does merit buy?"

"Equipment access. Resources. Medical priority. Eventually, mission choice."

Nate looked at the zero beside his name.

Cade changed the display.

ACTIVE SHARES: 7

"What are shares?"

"Every active member receives one for the mission. If someone dies, their base credit goes to their registered family, assuming they have one."

"And the rest?"

"Unsecured contribution and field salvage are redistributed among the survivors."

Nate looked at the number again.

Seven people.

"If one of us dies, the others get more."

"Yes."

Cade answered as though Nate had asked whether rain made the ground wet.

Nate waited for some explanation of why a military unit would build its reward system around that.

None came.

Kellan pushed away from the lockers.

"The dead don’t collect their share."

Cade looked at him.

"Briefing room. Two minutes."

A horn sounded across the depot.

Nate fastened the vest.

"Am I deploying today?"

Cade was already heading for the door.

"You were transferred here to be useful."

That answered the question.

Five people waited around the briefing table.

Nate recognized none of them.

A thick-necked man rested a heavy industrial cutter beside his chair. A woman with short brown hair checked the darts in a compact launcher. An older soldier cleaned a rifle without looking up.

Kellan took the seat beside Nate.

"Varek Sol," he said quietly, indicating the man with the cutter. "Nima. Dax. Hobb’s the one trying not to look at you."

The thin man near the wall immediately looked away.

Cade entered.

"Sit."

Varek’s gaze settled on Nate’s vest.

"Academy."

"For a while."

"What did you do?"

Nate considered the question.

"Closed a door."

Varek stared at him.

Kellan coughed into one hand.

Nate could not tell whether he was hiding a laugh.

Cade activated the table.

A terrain map appeared over the center.

Dense woodland surrounded an abandoned quarry and a narrow road.

GREYHOOK CUT

"Recovery patrol missed two scheduled check-ins," Cade said. "Their transport stopped transmitting twenty-three kilometres inside the eastern Wasteland corridor."

Three markers appeared on the map.

"Primary objective is their route recorder. Secondary objective is personnel recovery if conditions allow it."

Nate looked at him.

"If conditions allow it?"

"If they’re alive and bringing them back doesn’t destroy the recovery team."

Derren’s fist striking the other side of the sealed door came back to Nate without warning.

He pushed the memory away.

Cade continued.

"Their final report mentioned ground movement near the quarry. Threat classification is unknown."

A reward estimate appeared beside the map.

Nate looked at it before he meant to.

The payout was much higher than anything attached to academy exercises.

Kellan noticed the glance.

He said nothing.

Varek leaned toward the display.

"Salvage authorized?"

"If the patrol confirmed a nest, yes."

Varek nodded, satisfied.

Cade removed the reward window.

"Mission priorities are simple. Route recorder first. Threat identification second. Survivors when recovery is feasible. Salvage after that."

Nate listened.

People came after information about what had killed them.

The logic made sense.

That did not make it comfortable.

"Questions?"

Nate shook his head.

"Transport in five."

Everyone stood.

Kellan fell into step beside Nate as they left.

"Still want the academy back?"

Nate glanced at the zero beside MERIT on his vest.

"Ask me after the mission."

Kellan’s mouth moved slightly.

"That’s usually when the answer changes."

Seven names appeared above the transport door when Nate climbed inside.

ACTIVE SHARES: 7

Kellan sat opposite him with a short weapon resting across his knees.

Varek checked the power cell on his cutter.

Nima watched the road through the rear slit.

The depot disappeared behind them.

Within twenty minutes, clean pavement gave way to a narrow military route surrounded by grey woodland.

Kellan looked at Nate.

"First field mission?"

"Yes."

"Try not to die before the payout."

"You say that to every new transfer?"

"Only the ones sitting across from me."

The road became rougher.

Nate loosened his knees and let the vehicle move beneath him instead of resisting every shift.

Rovan’s training made the adjustment automatic now.

Cade raised one fist.

Conversation stopped.

The transport slowed.

Through the narrow front opening, Nate saw another vehicle standing in the middle of the road.

Its front doors were open.

Deep scratches crossed the armour from roof to axle.

Nobody moved around it.

Cade checked the mission display.

"Recovery vehicle."

The transport stopped thirty metres away.

Nate looked past it.

A dark trail crossed the road and disappeared into the forest.

Blood.

Nima leaned toward the rear window.

"I don’t see bodies."

Varek reached for his cutter.

Something moved beneath the road.

Nate felt it before he saw it.

A vibration travelled through the floor under his boots.

Then the earth lifted in a narrow line beside the abandoned vehicle.

The line curved.

Straight toward them.

Cade reached for his weapon.

"Out. Now."

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