Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (118/?) WiP 1

Hey everyone! Here is the Work in Progress for Chapter 118 I hope you guys enjoy! :D The revised version for Chapter 117 will be released tomorrow before the full release of Chapter 118! :D

Grand Concourse of Learning. Betreyan’s Hall. Local Time: 1645 Hours.

Emma

I really couldn’t blame Qiv nor Vanavan for this dual-pronged ambush.

If anything, I would’ve done the same if I was in their shoes.

In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that this was one of the few times I could objectively see myself as the villain in their stories.

Because as much as I could attempt to justify it, this victory and comeback was definitely the furthest away you could get from academic integrity. 

A fact that bore little on my conscience as a mission commander, scouting operative, and forward diplomat… but one that definitely made me feel a bit antsy as a ‘student’. 

[TASK COMPLETE: SPEECH-TO-TEXT DICTATION IN HIGH NEXIAN FROM SUBJECT ‘PROFESSOR VANAVAN’.]

VIs weren’t explicitly forbidden from Academia. However, their role was always to act as an aid rather than a full-blown replacement to the whole academic process. Having your essay completely generated by a VI, sorta defeated the purpose of actually writing it in the first place after all. The so-called Academic-Integrity Crises of the mid 21st, early 22nd, and late 23rd centuries was enough to hammer home that message. And it was from those crises that the contemporary relationship between VI and student was formed, and more or less drilled into our conscience from day one of primary school.

Though it was important to note that those reforms weren’t one sided. 

The fact that there were two-whole repeats of the crisis following the first student-centric reforms, demonstrated that both parties — institutions included — needed change, if only to finally adapt with the times.

It was… a messy process.

But such was the case with much of early intrasolar contemporary history.

With all that being said though, I could rationalize the iffiness of the whole ‘blackboard incident’ easily enough.

I had delegated homework away after all 

So the whole ‘blackboard’ debacle could be reasoned away as an extension of that.

And perhaps a show of cultural respect on the part of the diplomat in me too.

Finally, the Academy itself had shown itself to be not too forthcoming on the whole fairness thing on their end. 

So why should I play by the rules they so clearly ignored? 

…

Good faith. I thought to myself. 

Though once again, that was the optimist and idealist in me talking.

An aspect of myself that even the SIOP instructors back home told me not to lose, but merely, to circumvent whenever advantageous. 

There’s a time and a place for everything. Sometimes, you need to adapt. But adaptation doesn’t mean completely abandoning your principles. 

“Affirmative. Give me my hands back, EVI.”

“Acknowledged.”

My hands, thankfully, weren’t actually forced to go through the insane gymnastics that were required of rapid-fire Nexian calligraphy.

If anything, I could visibly feel the oncoming cramps that would’ve come from moving one’s wrist, palm, and fingers at such breakneck speeds and insane angles.

I would’ve probably sprained something in my hand if it was physically inside the confines of the suit’s multi-modal manual manipulators (the MMMM, or Exo-Dex’s for short).

With the suit being a good few sizes bigger than I was on the inside, this meant my hands weren’t really where they were supposed to be.

Which was a feature rather than a bug, as any T-SEC and LREF astro-pathfinder could tell you.

This was because the hands — the first and most important ‘interface’ between a person and their environment — were also the most prone to injury and damage because of it.

While this meant maiming or serious injury in industrial applications… it was a whole other ballgame when you were dealing with work that actually required hermetically-sealed micro-environments. 

Or to put it simply, work that required suits that protected the wearer from hazardous or hostile environments.

An accident or incident that involved an injury of the hands, automatically carried with it the risk of compromising the suit’s hermetic seal.

Which while already horrifying in the vacuum of space… meant assured death in the mana-rich environment of the Nexus.

All of this was to say that our years of designing both civilian exo-suits and military power armor, was now really paying off.

As the design philosophies and methods garnered from lessons written in blood within the vacuum of space, were now being applied to the E-ARRS project.

A fact that meant lots of training to become used to a set of ‘hands’ that weren’t my own, but also guaranteed a degree of safety when it came to unexpected hand-related accidents.

Or in this case, meant that the EVI could just go to town when it came to its fast-paced movements, which would have otherwise been impossible if my hands had been inside of the Exo-Dex’s.

But while my hands and conscience were both unharmed… I didn’t really have a plan for the social game I’d inadvertently just won following the whole blackboard debacle.

Especially as Vanavan turned to me with that dreaded smile—

“Fifty points! To Cadet Emma Booker’s peer group!” 

—and the points-game I desperately wanted to avoid. 

Though thankfully…

TOO-TOO-TOOOOT!

I wouldn’t need to entertain the classroom social games any further. 

As the end-of-period marching band came in at the nick of time, saving me from the much-dreaded flurry of questions that was sure to follow Qiv’s little gambit.

So with a quick nod towards Vanavan, and a few fast stomps up the lecture hall’s stairs, I was once again off.

With the gang in tow, we enjoyed the fruits of my recent point accumulation, leaving as the seventh group and more or less booking it back to the dorms.

=====

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Living  Room. Local Time: 1700 Hours.

Emma

All eyes… were once again on me.

Though thankfully, the topic at hand was one that had already been addressed, several weeks ago by the library in fact.

“The exact verbiage used by the library eludes me.” Thalmin began, prompting Thacea to quickly chime in.

“A living, breathing, dynamic system of mathematics is what the owl observed.” She spoke, crossing her arms regally in the process. 

“I would say I am surprised this applies not only to speech, but to the written word as well.” Ilunor continued, pinching the bridge of his snout in the process. “However, at this point, surprise tends to be a foregone conclusion in matters pertaining to you and your earthrealm tricks.”

However, unlike the dressing down I received during last week’s point-accruing incidents, Thalmin instead led the charge with an ear-to-ear grin, as he smacked my back hard. 

“Now that’s the spirit, Emma!” He began, cackling hard as he continued to shake my shoulder to and fro. “If the Nexus wishes to issue impossible tasks to newrealmers, with the intent to watch them fumble and falter at the altar of public humiliation… then so be it! Take them to said altar, and then wield their precious High Nexian in ways that they can only hope to mimic only a fraction of! Or better yet, one-up them at their own game! Flip the tables not just by meeting them at their impossible demands… but instead, humiliate them at their own twisted games!”