Like a Snowball

A few days later, right after class ended, I headed straight for the maintenance workshop. The mechanic cadets’ classroom was in a separate building attached to the workshop where they also did hands-on training. Students from other specialties usually only dropped by when they needed something fixed. I had never needed to visit because Kirié and Neria handled everything for me at the hangar on Fairy’s Hill.

“These damn brats! We’re already swamped with work, and they keep bringing us broken machines!”

The head mechanic was a veteran soldier. His rough language could intimidate pilot cadets, but he was a good man both in the original story and in reality. He actively voiced the mechanics’ grievances to the higher-ups and, despite his blunt tone, would toss out driving tips after finishing an Aindium repair.

After the hill battle and this latest incident, hardly any of the second-years’ machines were still in one piece. Looking at the workshop—wide as a parade ground—packed with Aindiums, I felt dizzy.

The head mechanic spotted me while climbing down from an Aindium in his mechanic suit. He frowned and raised his voice.

“What’s a first-year doing here? Did you break something again?”

Yikes. Up close, his presence was no joke. No wonder the new first-years were scared of coming here.

“Um, I came to see Senior Kirié…”

“Kirié? Hm. You’re Luna Adelt?”

“Yes. I’m Luna Adelt.”

The head mechanic turned his head sharply as if something displeased him and grabbed a towel hanging on the suit.

“Whatever the higher-ups say, I’m doing things my way. Got it?”

“Yes. Understood.”

I had heard the principal had told the instructors to accommodate me, but I already suspected the head mechanic wouldn’t care. In the workshop, he was the law, and he wasn’t exactly fond of anyone who wasn’t a mechanic cadet.

“Kirié! Your junior’s here!”

“Coming!”

Kirié, who had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been working on an Aindium in one corner of the workshop, came running over.

“Luna’s here. Where’s Neria?”

“She said she was bringing something from the dorm.”

“Then she should’ve waited and come together. Pilot brats always like acting alone.”

“Chief, stop eavesdropping on girls’ conversations.”

“Ahem.”

With a single sentence, Kirié shut the head mechanic up and led me to a corner of the workshop.

“This is about the weapon we talked about last time, right?”

“Yes. Also, it seems like the repairs on the Black Fairy are about finished.”

The Black Fairy was being repaired here with only its head roughly reattached. The head mechanic still didn’t know it was my machine, which was why he hadn’t scolded us.

“The Black Fairy’s repairs are in the final stages. We’ll discuss the weapons once Neria arrives. But…”

Kirié glanced around, then pushed me against the wall. Since she was shorter than me, it didn’t feel particularly threatening.

“You know I’m doing you a huge favor, right? The Black Fairy should’ve been chewed out before we even started repairs.”

“Y-yes, of course I know.”

“So if you ever let anyone else ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠touch the Limpid Fairy’s maintenance, you’re in for it.”

She poked me right below the collarbone, near my chest. I nodded repeatedly with a grateful expression.

“Yes. Obviously, you’re the Limpid’s main mechanic, Senior Kirié.”

“Main?”

“Neria’s the sub.”

“Hm. If it’s Neria, fine.”

Mechanics were simple creatures. All it took to earn their loyalty was acknowledging them as the main mechanic of a masterpiece. I also bought them snacks, played games with them in the clubroom, and once translated the technology that went into the Limpid while talking with the fairies—but those were minor things. Dealing with the CT Club mechanics was an extremely profitable arrangement for me. Just not getting scolded by the head mechanic was already worth it.

“Kirié unni! Luna!”

“Neria, you’re supposed to call me senior outside.”

“Oh, right. I always forget. Hehe.”

Neria looked far more relaxed than she did in the classroom. Carrying a thick book, she placed it on a drafting table in one corner of the workshop.

“What’s that?”

“An Aindium weapon catalog.”

Kirié perked up at Neria’s words.

“The latest edition?”

“Yeah. Just came out.”

“Did you buy it in town?”

“No, I ordered it by mail.”

Mail delivery reached the dorms too? Back in Karmanu, Ruwina could get anything with a single word, and since coming here I hadn’t needed to buy new things. I should ask Neria later if there were any hard-to-find items at school that I might need.

“Any major changes?”

“I marked the important parts.”

The mechanics, who had been chatting among themselves in front of their client, finally included me after a few minutes.

“Ah, sorry. This is pretty important material. Luna said she needed an anti-materiel sniper rifle, right?”

“Yes. Not a mass-produced model—something with low recoil.”

“Low recoil… And?”

“Can we install recoil control on the Limpid as well?”

At my question, Kirié raised an eyebrow.

“You want to modify a masterpiece?”

“Would it be difficult?”

“No, that’s not the issue. How should I put it… It feels like attaching an amateur’s structure onto a famous sculptor’s work.”

“But the Limpid isn’t a sculpture—it’s an Aindium, right? And you’re not an amateur either. I think you’re more than qualified to modify it.”

“Ahem. Is that so?”

Kirié pretended to be indifferent, but I didn’t miss the slight upward twitch of her lips.

After spending several hours finalizing a sniper rifle and other armaments suited to the Limpid, along with the corresponding modification plans, we finally headed back to the dorm. In exchange, I bought them the limited-edition cake from the patisserie in town. Really, employing the CT Club mechanics was ridiculously cheap.

**

The Limpid modification plans were steadily progressing, and with the second-year pilots away on leave, the CT Club was also taking it easy these days. I was facing one particular problem. It concerned the only ability I had been granted in this world—the fan bulletin board for the Aindium series.

From some point onward, censored text like this began appearing. If I tried to infer the content, it seemed related to scenes from the animation that revealed the enemy’s identity, but I couldn’t obtain any direct information. Indirect deduction was possible, yet even that was blocked by heavy censorship on key words, so I couldn’t identify them right away.

When I organized my deductions, only two things were certain.

First, from a common-sense perspective, the enemy wasn’t in a geopolitical position to attack Allob Island. The bulletin board was full of questions like “How and why did those guys attack here?” There seemed to be analysis posts as well, but they were unresponsive, as if deactivated. Whoever had given me the ability to view the bulletin board apparently didn’t want me to figure out the enemy’s identity yet.

Second, the enemy was a faction that had been mentioned at least once in previous works or other media mixes. It wasn’t a newly introduced force. Posts saying as much occasionally caught my eye. The Empire and the Republic were factions that anyone familiar with the series would know, so the fact that there were posts with explanatory titles suggested it was likely an obscure nation or organization. Those explanation posts were also deactivated and unviewable.

I got the feeling that I needed to gather more information about the enemy before I could read the bulletin board posts.

“Hmm.”

“Luna, is something bothering you?”

“Huh? No. I just can’t solve a problem.”

Since I had been looking at the bulletin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠board during self-study with a reference book on my desk, I had invited unnecessary misunderstanding. With so many eyes on me already, I should only check the board during breaks.

**

After the seniors finished their leaves one by one, it was already late May. While my other classmates had already started club activities, the CT Club—which Neria and I planned to join—hadn’t begun recruiting yet. Because the CT Club was an elite group, the requirements were strict: mechanics and operators needed to be in the top five of the midterms, and pilots needed to possess a personal Aindium.

Personal Aindiums for pilots were given to the top five scorers and cadets with special attributes, though production took some time. This week, the personal machines for the top-ranking students were finally supposed to arrive. As fourth place, I also had a special attribute and already possessed one due to various circumstances.

“So recruitment starts this Friday.”

“Finally, we’ll be able to come and go officially.”

“Hehe. You and Neria are always welcome.”

Ran’s warm words made the knot of worries in my heart melt away. The seniors, excited at the prospect of welcoming juniors, naturally turned their gazes toward Neria and me.

“Luna, are there any useful kids among your classmates?”

“Hmm. Including Neria and me, seventeen people meet the qualifications. Besides me, there are two more pilots with special attributes, but I believe neither made it into the top five.”

“If those two come, Carson can take them.”

“Why me?”

“They’d be your direct juniors in the same situation.”

“This bastard.”

While Rendel and Carson bickered, Muri gave a look that said to continue the explanation.

“I’m fourth among the pilots. I brought the info on first through third and fifth place.”

“Oh my. That’s our Luna. Let’s see.”

Everyone’s grades were good, but none of them surpassed me in practical skills. The first-place student handled an Aindium quite well, but I heard they had already joined another club.

“If we exclude the ones who joined other clubs, not many are left.”

“For pilots, including Luna, three people. I don’t know about operators, and for mechanics, we only need Neria.”

Setting aside Kirié, who arbitrarily reduced the mechanic slots, there really weren’t many mechanic cadets who could join. There were several clubs that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only accepted mechanics, after all. I was secretly looking forward to seeing which friends would enter the CT Club. In the original story, the first-year CT Club members had appeared briefly, but since Ruwina hadn’t joined, there had been some talk about it. They probably joined later, but after being dragged here after reading a few more chapters, I didn’t know the first-year members’ names either. Their faces were only from the animation’s rough art style, so I couldn’t recognize or remember them.

“Most of the pilots who haven’t joined a club yet will probably come for the interview. That’s how it was for us too.”

“Then these two will come.”

“Probably. We have no idea who’ll show up for operators.”

If I wanted, I could get the top five operator cadets’ information through the principal, but I decided to save that enjoyment for the day itself.

And so, on the Friday of the CT Club’s new student recruitment—

“Uh, um. Could you line up first?”

“Wow. Luna’s really here.”

“Yui, you came too?”

“Yeah! Long time no see.”

The CT Club welcomed fifteen first-year cadets besides Neria and me—including five who had quit other clubs after hearing about the CT Club recruitment.