Francus was shocked when the sharp tip of a blade was extremely close to stabbing his eye. He thought he was going to die; however, apparently, the blade was held by a robot from the Celestial Platoon that almost mistook Francus as an enemy.
The cold, metallic grip of the robot's hand loosened, and the blade retracted into its arm. Francus, still catching his breath, stared at the machine in disbelief. The red glow of its optical sensors flickered as if analyzing him.
As the robot retracted its blade, Francus sighed in relief. "You almost gave me a heart attack there, metal friend."
The robot's mechanical voice responded, "Apologies for the confusion. The situation is chaotic, and a nearby solar storm is interrupting with our identificatiin system."
Francus nodded, understanding the necessity for caution in the midst of battle. He patted the robot on its metallic frame. "No hard feelings. I appreciate the backup."
The robot remained stoic, its mechanical features devoid of emotion. Without uttering another word, it turned and exited the building, leaving Francus bewildered.
As the robot exited the building, Francus took a moment to assess the situation outside. The battlefield was still chaotic, with sporadic clashes between the Celestial Platoon and the Tribe of Ghost. It was evident that the unexpected attack had thrown both sides into disarray.
Francus decided to follow the robot, hoping it could lead him to a safer location or provide some insights into the ongoing battle. The machine moved with calculated precision, navigating the war-torn landscape effortlessly.
As they traversed the battleground, Francus noticed the robot communicating with other units through encrypted channels. Its role seemed not only defensive but also strategic, coordinating efforts to regain control of the situation.
After a series of narrow escapes and skirmishes, they reached a temporary command center set up by the Celestial Platoon. Officers were strategizing, and holographic displays showcased the current status of the battle.
The robot approached a high-ranking officer, transmitting data and receiving instructions. Francus, still on edge, observed the exchange. It became apparent that the Celestial Platoon was adapting to the unexpected assault, mobilizing its forces to counter the Tribe of Ghost's unconventional tactics.
"Seems like the Celestial Platoon is not a newborn group at all. Those officers looked like they have experienced countless battles before."
One of the officers noticed Francus and shouted at him to come there. The officer glared at Francus, asking what he's doing snooping around here.
The officer's stern gaze bore into Francus as he approached the command center. The chaos of battle seemed to fade as the officer eyed him suspiciously.
What are you doing here?" the officer demanded, his tone cutting through the tension of the room.
Francus, caught off guard, stammered, "I...uh, just following the robot. It saved me back there."
The officer's expression softened slightly, realizing the encounter with the robot. "You're the one the SENTRY rescued?"
"Yeah,"
"It says right here that you manage to lure four enemy squadrons to your directions, saving a lot of your allies in the process."
"Huh?" When did that happen? Francus blinked confusedly.
"You're one of those brave men," the officer praised. "We need more people like you. I can see that you are wounded. My assistant will guide you to the medic, tend your wound there and have some respite."
The officer left the room.
Francus was extremely confused. "Did that really happen?"
A metallic robot maid entered the room and offered Francus to lead him to the medical ward. The humanoid machine had a sleek design, its movements precise and efficient. With a gentle bow, it gestured for Francus to follow.
"Please follow me, Mr. Hendry. I will ensure you receive the necessary medical attention," the robot maid spoke in a melodic voice, its tone strangely soothing given the chaotic circumstances.
Still bewildered by the unexpected turn of events, Francus followed the robot through the bustling command center. Officers and soldiers moved with urgency, coordinating their efforts to respond to the Tribe of Ghost's relentless assault.
As they reached the medical ward, Francus was greeted by the hum of advanced medical equipment and the scent of antiseptic. The metallic maid guided him to a vacant bed, where a human medic awaited.
"Sit here, and the medic will tend to your injuries," the robot maid suggested.
As the medic examined his wounds, Francus couldn't shake the feeling that his role in luring the enemy squadrons had been exaggerated or perhaps even fabricated. The confusion lingered, but the immediate concern was the pain shooting through his body.
Francus didn't pay much attention when he was chased by the enemy. His mind was too focused on trying to run away at that time.
The medic worked efficiently, cleaning and dressing the wounds, while the robot maid stood by, its presence oddly comforting. Once the medic finished, the robot offered a nod of approval.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Hendry. If you require any further assistance, please do not hesitate to ask," the robot said.
Francus smiled and nodded before the curtain next to him slid to the side, revealing an old man.
"Haha, I knew it was you. So you're still alive? Lucky bastard you are."
"Old man, what are you doing here?"
"I attacked a little too aggressive. My joints on my knees and shoulders were destroyed, but they got it all fixed. Still, I decide to stay in this place for a while to make sure my body is truly healed. The people here are nice, but don't you dare act like a baby around them. You're a soldier! Remember that."
Suddenly, a young beautiful nurse came. "Grandpa, did you eat all of your pills this time?"
"Hehe, how could I eat all of these bitter pills all by myself. I am old and wounded after all."
The nurse put both hands in her waist and glared at the old man.
Francus could only shake his head. "But I cannot stay here for long."
It wasn't because Francus was a diligent mercenary, but the amount of contribution he gave will determine the reward he would be given.
On his coms, the screen revealed the number: 349.
It was his contribution points in this battle. Apparently, it had been there all along, but most mercenaries just didn't get the chance to check it, including him.
'If I get a high score, I might be promoted to an officer in the future. No more jumping ships and live in uncertainty.'
Just as Francus was about leave, he felt extreme goosebumps. The sensation was like ice-cold wind spreading throughout his entire body, making him shiver uncontrollably.
"What is this feeling?"
A second later, a handsome figure with black hair entered the medical ward. The nurses stopped what they were doing and saluted him before continuing their work.
Even the officers standing by saluted at him.
Francus also felt this ethereal glow pulsing out of him as if this man was a star himself.
"Who are you?" Francus let out those words unconsciously.
He only realized what he said when the man set his gaze on him.
He closed his mouth. 'Fuck, this lips are hard to control.'
"Did you not recognize me?" Aldred smiled.
That was when Francus realized it. This was the man that appeared in the big projection, telling the mercenaries to attack the Tribe of Ghost.
This was Aldred! The leader of a newly formed group called Celestial Platoon.
"Apologies, sir!"
"Apology accepted. Get some rest, soldier. You have done your very best."
"Eh," Francus did not expect a man like Aldred would be so kind.
Aldred thanked and congratulated the mercenaries in the medical ward, expressing gratitude for their efforts on the battlefield. His charismatic presence and genuine appreciation put the weary soldiers at ease.
"Your bravery and resilience have not gone unnoticed," Aldred declared, raising a glass in a toast. "To the Celestial Platoon and the indomitable spirit of those who fight for a better future!"
The medical ward transformed into a scene of celebration. Robot maids efficiently brought in large plates of hearty food and glasses filled with wine, creating an impromptu feast for the battle-weary mercenaries.
The aroma of delicious dishes filled the air, and the clinking of glasses resonated as Aldred personally went around, exchanging words of gratitude with each soldier. The atmosphere shifted from one of tension to camaraderie, fostering a sense of unity among the diverse group of mercenaries.
As Francus enjoyed the feast, he found himself in the company of fellow soldiers, sharing stories of the chaotic battle, moments of bravery, and even a few lighthearted jokes. The wounded old man from earlier joined the gathering, displaying a newfound camaraderie with Francus.
The robot maids, efficient and unobtrusive, ensured that everyone had their fill of food and drink. Their metallic precision in serving only added to the surreal atmosphere of the celebration.
Aldred, with a genuine smile on his face, stood at the center of the room, raising a toast once again. "Tonight, we celebrate not just a victory on the battlefield, but the bonds forged amidst the chaos. To the Celestial Platoon and the indomitable spirit of every warrior here!"
The cheers that followed echoed through the medical ward, carrying a sense of triumph and unity. It was a moment of respite, a brief pause in the ongoing cosmic war, where soldiers from different walks of life found common ground in their shared struggle.
The okd man cheered and raised a glass. "Fuck, I think I am going to stay being a mercenary in this group for a while."
Francus chewed a mouthful of meat and nodded.
