Sasha Braus lined up her shot and squeezed the trigger of her blaster rifle.

  A satisfied grin spread across her face, the circular paper target burning into ash.

  “Good shot, Braus,” complimented one of the COMPNOR officers strolling behind the line of cadets blasting at more paper targets down the firing range. The officer nearest Sasha paused. “Fold up the stock. Try using the eee-eleven one handed. Aim for the alien freak… over there, beside the overturned dining table.”

  The “alien freak” was a poorly drawn monster face plastered on a wooden post. There were several different targets, some with more creative liberties given to them than others. The debris spread across the range was a change from last week’s blasting shooting sessions; broken furniture and hastily built obstructions blocked the line of sight to the targets, and the cadets needed to take them into account when firing their blasters. Next week, Chief Strom said there’d be a fully dedicated obstacle course that teams of cadets will have to go through, firing at more faux hostiles and achieving mock objectives along the way.

  The new target the officer directed Sasha to was sitting at an awkward angle, low to the ground and partially hidden by the table. Sasha carefully repeated the strict drills taught by Strom; she folded the stock back to its position across the barrel, and took the pistol grip firmly in one palm. Then she layered her other hand over it so that she was holding the condensed weapon in both hands, like a pistol. Sasha imagined in her mind’s eye how to aim for the target. She decided to go prone, lying down in the dirt to get a better look at the alien face. Sasha’s smile faded.

  She fired.

  Sasha smiled again, her judgment proven correct when the blaster bolt went through the weakened wood of the table and disintegrated the target. In the brief time Sasha has worked with blasters, she’s noticed the red bolt which blasters fired put most of its fiery energy into a target on impact, but the old dining table was worn enough for the bolt to go completely through instead of immediately burning out on the first layer of wood.

  “Very good,” said the officer, fiddling with a datapad to update Sasha’s marks on the range. “I like the initiative, changing your stance to improve your aim. The Empire cares for results. Accomplish them while staying within reasonable parameters, and you’ll go far.”

  “Thank you, sir!” Sasha returned as she brought herself up to one knee, looking down the range at another target. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Nodding, the officer walked away.

  A different officer was a lot less accommodating to another cadet. That Imperial used his imposing height to tower over a kneeling Thomas and swipe the blaster out of his hands.

  “This is the second time, Wagner!” shouted the officer. “We’re using live ammunition, and you’re waving a lethal weapon around without a care for where the barrel is pointing.”

  “I’m sorry, sir!”

  “I imagine it’d be a cause for celebration if I became a victim from your lack of discipline. You’d be apathetic at best if a cadet at your side is hurt by a blaster bolt you fired. Less people to distract you from your daydreaming.”

  “N-No, sir! I don’t–”

  “Twenty laps, now.”

  Burying his panic as best he could, Thomas got to his feet and started jogging, accelerating when the officer effortlessly caught up and screamed in his ear.

  Sasha felt for Thomas. He’d been pretty shaky ever since rejoining the 104th. Plus, the disciplinary laps cadets had to run extended around a good chunk of the quarry which Sasha herself had run when she first joined the military. Surviving the chaos that was Trost only to be left with erratic habits he couldn’t shake, then to be subjected to rough Imperial treatment, was hardly a good deal to Sasha. At least Thomas was alive, but still, he had Sasha’s sympathies.

  Not that she could do much for him. After Thomas left, blaster fire continued to fill the range with smoke trails for another ten minutes, until Commandant Shadis’ deafening voice drowned out the noise.

  “Blaster class is over, cadets! Set the rifles away and gather around.”

  A COMPNOR officer in black pushed a cart down the line of cadets for them to return the blasters. An assistant double-checked any spent power packs used as ammo for the blasters. Garrison officers shadowed the Imperials as they went about their work. Sasha was sure real Wall soldiers were going through their own training in the Task Force and had their own growing pains, too.

  Sasha and her friends who weren’t still running their laps sorted themselves to stand before the demonic behemoth that was Keith Shadis. Some like Mina might like to gossip about the Empire shoving Shadis off the pedestal of power he once stood on, but Sasha still recognized the authority he commanded. Even as the King and the nobles placed themselves under the Empire, Shadis wasn’t giving up on making sure his cadets were ready to serve. If that meant mastering Imperial weapons and following Imperial procedures, then Shadis was going to make it happen.

  Although… Sasha had to admit Shadis was downright subdued compared to his normal self. She assumed toes were still being stepped on with the JTF Xamaural integration.

  “I hope none of you broke protocol to hide a stash of extra rations in the barracks,” he said. “You’re all being assigned new quarters.”

  Sasha felt Shadis’ eyes look at her, but she thankfully already learned her lesson and had stopped keeping extra loaves of bread or potato slices under her pillow anymore.

  There were better hiding spots to minimize getting caught, and Shadis had been too preoccupied dealing with the Imps to spend more time than necessary sussing her out in these recent days.

  “The Imperials found a new vein of raw ore,” Shadis explained, “underneath your current sleeping quarters. They’ve already cleared the area to start digging. Come nightfall, you will be taught how to establish Imperial prefabricated shelters, the same as you will likely be expected to use once expeditions on our island go underway.”

  Ah. Raw ore. There’s been talk spreading about the Empire setting up lots of mining sites or smaller outposts in Wall Rose territory and the Interior. Apparently, Imperial tech can detect minerals and resources Kyojinites didn’t even have names for. The more colorful stories claimed entire villages had to be relocated to accommodate Imperial operations, if they weren’t pressed to work in those operations.

  A part of Sasha wondered about her home village, her parents, but Shadis, and higher Wall Military authorities like him, never directly voiced any complaints on how the Empire was running things. Sasha had to believe the rumors were only rumors. After all, why mistreat the families of the cadets they were teaching how to use their advanced weapons?

  Shadis dismissed the crowd for their study period. Another COMPNOR class was scheduled before sundown. There was a high chance of there being another test, so with all the physical exercises done for the day, the cadets needed the time to prepare.

  Everyone gravitated to the usual study groups. Sasha found herself walking with Connie, the both of them freely yawning now that Shadis’ scrutiny was gone. Krista ambled near Sasha, Ymir of course putting herself between Krista and big bro Reiner trailing after the 104th’s sweetheart. Bertholdt wasn’t far behind his best buddy. On Connie’s side, Jean and Armin were whispering about whatever disagreement on the Empire ensnared them this time. Mina was playing support for Armin. Marco took a break from tempering Jean’s snappiness to chat with Mylius. “Metal Mylius,” many people had started calling him, on account of his metal legs, though most like Sasha had gotten fairly used to the cyborg prosthetics. A small but very visible minority of Kyojinite military members were cyborgs now. Annie was holding back, per usual.

  Still wearing their regular Wall Military uniforms, the cadets also donned backpacks supplied by the Empire. Aside from the weekly practice runs, ODM gear was effectively replaced by the packs for the COMPNOR education they’ve been undergoing. The material was less rigid than stone or metal yet tougher than fabric or leather; a variant of the packs the Stormtroopers wore, but intentionally made for CompForce Cadets to help them get used to the load actual troopers had to carry. Inside the packs were emergency Imperial rations (which were always recounted at the end of the day, giving Sasha no opportunities to do more than strategically nibble on her share), basic medical supplies, other equipment said to be standard-issue for troopers, and one or two… holobooks.

  Holobooks were… well, almost like real books, with thick covers enveloping the contents inside, but the pages weren’t like regular pages. They were rigid, resembling slim, unbendable planks instead of real paper, and each page was more so like a mini-datapad, less advanced than what Sasha’s seen Imperials using. One side of any given sheet was an interactable screen which cadets navigated to read the different entries for a given Imperial sub-topic. The Stormtrooper Corps had its own sheet. When a reader wanted to learn more about one of the pre-set subjects mentioned in the Corps files, they had to follow the provided instructions to flip the pages to the correct sheet with the right information.

  You couldn’t jot down notes like with a real book, though. Thankfully, the cadets were issued real journals to help keep track of their lessons. It was incredibly convenient that COMPNOR was able to translate the study material into the local Kyojinite language in such a short time frame. It was still odd they all shared the same spoken language, but the theories Sasha heard from other cadets and officers up the ladder went too far above her head for her to pay them much attention.

  With the barracks closed off, Sasha’s group went to the mess hall. By the look of the Imperials loitering near the entrance, the COMPNOR teachers were having a late lunch hour or an early dinner, so the cadets instead sat at the tables in the small area next to the mess hall building.

  Everyone pulled out their holobooks and journals. Sasha stared at the contrasting blue and white pages… and already felt the onset of a headache. Especially because of the brightness of the holobook she swore was broken, on too high a setting to let the text be actually readable.

  Firing blasters at the range was practically a breeze for Sasha. All the written and oral tests about the history and structure of the Empire were what gave her real trouble. There was just so much information, so many new concepts about a foreign society unimaginably far away. It wasn’t as easy for her to grasp compared to the real weapons and tools she could hold in her hands.

  One thing that made her feel a bit better was that she wasn’t alone in her struggles. Sighing, dropping his head onto the table, Connie poked at their group with another question. “Hey, does anyone get the difference between a Grand Moff and a Grand Admiral? All I can get is that they’re Empire bigwigs.”

  Marco helpfully checked his paper notebook. “An Admiral is a military official. A Moff is more political… I think, from the holobook’s wording, a person can hold both titles at once.”

  “Damn, being one type of Grand isn’t enough for the Imps?”

  Mina hummed with a glint in her eye. “They say Lord Vader is also the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military. In a big galaxy, they must have all sorts of terms to recognize the different feats Imperial soldiers accomplish!”

  Jean rolled his eyes at Mina’s reaction. Honestly, Sasha didn’t blame him. One-track mind, that girl. “I can’t believe you guys are still talking about ranks and titles,” Jean said as he held up his holobook, opened to a page with an image of Stormtroopers on it, “when the Empire literally has the power to create life!”

  Ah, that’s right. Those were Old Republic Clone Troopers, a precursor to the current Imperial Stormtroopers who were now roaming the Walls, training cadets, and killing Titans.

  Cloning… Yeah, Sasha had to say, the existence of technology able to artificially grow sons and daughters without needing a ma or pa involved to do the deed was downright freaky. Sasha couldn’t imagine what it would be like to grow in a glass tank and be pulled out to do nothing but soldiering for the rest of her shortened lifespan. The sparse interactions she’s had with Stormtroopers who admitted to being clones didn’t suggest they were bothered by their lot in life, but were they even able to think differently from what they were raised to be?

  Armin, the most diligent student in the whole 104th, came in with the obligatory correction. “Technically, clonemasters still have to rely on biological material donated from–”

  “Not the point, Armin. Specifics like that don’t matter. The end result does. Why is the Empire even using non-clone soldiers?”

  Ymir shot Jean a mocking smile. “What? You stayed in the military to move up the ranks for a shot at getting clone servants at your beck and call?”

  With Eren out of the picture, lots of people picked up the slack in arguing with Jean. Mylius was one of them, now glaring at Jean. “They’re still people, Jean. Clone or non-clone, troopers gave up their lives for us at Trost.”

  Marco the peacemaker tried to rein Jean in before he could dive headfirst into yet another spat. “Look at this article, Jean,” he said, presenting his own holobook. “There was an uprising of clonemasters using corrupted clones a decade ago, and even before that, quality clones take up a lot of time and resources to get right, let alone on a galactic scale. Cloning technology is too complex for the Empire to just bring it wherever they go. Like in their expedition to our planet. It’s more effective in the long-run to train regular people as soldiers.”

  Jotting down notes in his journal, Reiner let out an agreeable grunt. “Makes sense. The biggest thing the Empire’s dealing with now is an underground rebellion, not a galaxy-wide threat like the Separatist Alliance. That makes about twenty years of galactic peace for the Empire, so there’s no incentive to put in the money for more clones when there’s loyal citizens ready to serve.”

  Jean didn’t look happy, but he relented on the clone stuff and changed the subject. “Okay, fine. The big, powerful Empire doesn’t have the resources to shoot out another clone army. Not like it matters when the Legion is stranded on our planet. Can any of you give me a straight answer on what the hell the Empire is doing to Mikasa and Eren?”

  This time, no one talked back. The uneasy air finally got to Sasha; she slipped a hand into her backpack.

  “Two weeks we’ve been training under the Empire,” Jean said. “Almost a month since Trost. All we’ve been told is that Titan-transforming Eren is a Scout now with Mikasa.” He narrowed his eyes at Armin. “Did you learn anything new after your last talk with Sunber?”

  “.... No,” Armin answered after a beat of silence.

  “So all we know is what the Empire’s told us. We’re all human, a branch of humanity probably descended from a lost expedition from ancient times, and there’s a – what did they call it? An anomalous mutation or something, in Eren, with his Titan power. The Empire isn’t calling it ‘primitive’ like they do other things in the Walls. Titan-shifting is alien to them.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Reiner loudly put down his books and set a stern gaze on Jean. “What’s your point? Eren is a strange but still suitable soldier for the Joint Task Force. Our real superiors in the Wall Military must think so, too.”

  “Soldier? Or slave?”

  Sasha quietly looked around her surroundings. Their group was sequestered on one table, other cadets nearby pointedly giving Jean’s latest rant no mind. The distant Imperials, wearing no helmets, also didn’t look like they were paying attention, so Sasha placed her pack on the table and clutched her fingers around an object inside, slowly pulling it out.

  Krista chimed in. “Jean… has a point,” she said hesitantly. Ymir wrapped a protective arm around the smaller girl. “I’ve been paying attention to the Imperials’ word usage. Aliens are sentient people who look different from regular humans, but there’s always… distaste when Imperials talk about them. Founding members of the Confederacy were aliens who almost ruined the galaxy in the Clone War. Aliens serve in the Rebel Alliance trying to revive a decadent Old Republic. They’re the ‘freaks’ we shoot as targets on the range. If the Empire sees Eren at the same level as–”

  “It’s only a euphemism,” Armin said, still holding onto hope for his childhood friends. “Imperial soldiers use a lot of colorful language without real meaning behind it. Jokes in good faith. Lieutenant Sunber has alien friends on his homeworld. The Empire cares about loyalty and strength more than anything.” Sasha wasn’t sure if Armin genuinely believed his words or if he was still playing the diplomat, like when he first vouched for Sunber’s platoon at Trost.

  Jean had a counterpoint ready. “Then why has no one here seen an alien Imperial? An actual alien with six eyes instead of two, or natural purple skin, or whatever alien features, wearing an Imperial uniform or armor? It’s all humans. And if the Empire cares so much about loyalty, Eren killing an Imperial is another point against him on top of being so alien.”

  “The pardon–”

  “We can see the people who got the pardon, except for Mikasa and Eren. Maybe they are still serving as soldiers, getting a separate ‘education’ from us, but–”

  No, Sasha couldn’t believe whatever circumstances Eren and Mikasa were in was worse off than what the rest of the 104th were going through. Like Armin said, the Empire cared about strength. Between Mikasa at number one of the top ten and Eren’s Titan form, that was too much strength for the Empire to misuse. The King, the nobles, and the Wall Military leaders had been able to agree on a deal with the Empire, so the stubborn heads in Mikasa and Eren, with smartypants Armin going at the matter from another angle, should be able to work out a mutually beneficial arrangement, too.

  Pessimistic Jean didn’t have the same faith as the others, which only brought everyone’s moods down… meaning, everybody was brooding and self-reflecting instead of studying. This wasn’t the first time it’s happened.

  Sasha had a good idea on what her chances were when it came to any upcoming exams. So, to put a stop to Jean’s rant, she fully pulled out the box from her backpack and flipped open the top. Jean shut his mouth and stared at Sasha’s prize.

  “What the hell is this?” Jean asked.

  “A peace offering,” Sasha said.

  Chicken, pork, beef – none of the above. This was space animal meat. If a good chunk of cadets found a new reason to live in following the glorious Empire, then Sasha found her own inspiration: sweet, succulent, delicious nerf, cooked to semi-perfection.

  Only semi, because this nerf steak used preservatives even more effective than salt to keep its flavor, texture, and nutrients after spending who knows how long in its storage box. The real thing, freshly cooked, just had to taste even better than the military ration version.

  Ha! Sasha saw Jean swallow a gulp down his throat. Even the smell alone, diluted it might be, was enough for some in Sasha’s captivated audience to lick their lips. The typical Imperial rations solved basic hunger complaints, but there were dry rations, and then there was juicy meat.

  “Argue another time,” Sasha said, grabbing a holobook stylus to improvise as a knife to slice the nerf steak. “We eat, and you guys help me understand the rules behind the letters and numbers for Imperial designation codes. I just know Chief Strom’s goons are going to make me march the full length of Wall Rose if I score too low on the next test.” Sasha didn’t wait for an answer before she started cutting.

  Bertholdt leaned in to whisper, “Where did you get this?”

  Cadets were still roped into odd jobs for the Empire when not training or studying. It mostly boiled down to courier work, which gave Sasha an opening to filch something when no one was looking. “It’s from a batch–” She cut herself off before she gave away poor Daz’s name. No need to get him into any trouble when he had looked the other way on that run they were pulled into. “A delivery was supposed to go to Fort Bex.”

  The Fort was the giant Imperial prefab fortress placed where the Trost boulder had once stood. While the name honored one of the Imperials who died in the battle, it was weird to know it was an Imperial killed by an out-of-control Titan Eren, which Sasha assumed was part of the point; remind the Kyojinites that their people had debts to repay if they wanted more Imperial support.

  “The deliveries with nerf steaks have special marks,” Sasha recounted from her observations, showing her friends by tapping the side of the box. “If they’re not eating the nerf themselves, Imp officers are using them to barter with craftsmen like blacksmiths and carpenters. Keep them well-fed while they contribute to the Task Force. It should be fine if us soldiers get our early share, right?”

  The temptation spread like a disease, visible in the faces unable to turn away from the view of Sasha separating portions of the meat. When Sasha tossed one into her mouth to chew as she made more cuts, Ymir laughed, reaching out to take her own share. “I like the way you think.”

  “Y’know,” Connie remarked as he stole a piece, “the Imperials have all of Shadis’ records on us. They must know your history, so if you get caught again now that the Empire’s in charge–” He yelped when Sasha snapped his fingers when he went for a second helping.

  “We’re all in this together,” Sasha said, giving her own cool glare at anyone who dared to do what Connie did.

  Damn, a line of drool was dropping from the corner of her mouth. The scent of the nerf was too strong. Sasha wasn’t sure if it made look more or less serious about this.

  “If my grades go down in the classroom tests, COMPNOR will make me run more laps or do some other punishment, which means less opportunities to nab deliveries like this. Help me to help you guys. Yeah?”

  “... I’m not saying the Empire doesn’t have its upsides,” Jean said while savoring a piece before opening his holobook to a relevant page. “But what’s going to be the cost in the long-run? Nerf is raised on other planets. Will they start shipping us off our planet? Fight in their wars?”

  Connie kicked Jean’s legs under the table. “Hey, shut up about that for a second! Armin, your grades are the best. Help Sasha so she can–”

  A gloved hand latched onto Sasha’s wrist.

  She looked up to see the armored form of a trooper. An Army trooper, in the partial armor and face-exposed helmet of the Imperial Army. The man frowned and tightened his grip, forcing Sasha to cringe and drop the stylus.

  Sasha’s heart fell when the trooper yelled, “I found the thief!”

  No cadet trained in the Walls was unused to the sight of being dragged or manhandled by a superior officer. Since day one, Shadis and his cronies had been unafraid to get physical with trainees who failed to meet their standards, but in the short time since COMPNOR took over, the Imperials rarely did the same. No slaps or shoves, only shouting matches and punishing exercises like the laps. The closest it came to was brusquely disarming underperforming cadets like with what happened to Thomas earlier.

  Until now. The Army trooper pulled her off her seat. Sasha fell onto her back when he let go to take the nerf steak and its packaging into his arms. Her friends exploded in an uproar, standing and shouting at the trooper.

  Sasha couldn’t lie to herself; she froze. As the trooper yelled back at her friends, she didn’t see a shadowy Imperial raising his arms to keep the food out of reach. She saw a brutish Titan about to smash its arms down to tenderize its next victim: Sasha Braus.

  Her stupor was broken when more gloved hands pulled at her. Thankfully, she had enough pure instinct to avoid being trapped in another grab; she hopped to her feet, putting distance between herself and a grey-uniformed Army officer.

  Oof, she moved too quickly than the officer anticipated. He tripped and fell flat on his face.

  And it was just Sasha’s luck for her to back into the barrel of a blaster, because after taking a step backwards, that’s what had to be the thing hitting the center of her spine.

  “Pull yourself together, Lieutenant,” said a nasally voice using a foreign accent but with the right tone straight out of the Interior. “We have our culprit. Let’s not waste any more time.”

  Every single cadet around them was standing now, blatantly staring at the chaotic scene. The uneasy air faintly reminded Sasha of their first encounter with Imperial soldiers, only there was no Lieutenant Sunber to de-escalate the situation. The Army officer spat out dirt as he raised himself, scowling at Sasha. The first trooper was also picking himself up, the cut nerf portions scattered on the ground around him. Annie was next to him, so Sasha assumed she whipped out her close-combat skills to knock the bigger soldier down. Once he was standing, he set his glare on Annie, and moved his hand up near his – oh, he was going to backhand Annie.

  “Leave it,” snapped the man holding the gun to Sasha’s back. The trooper paused mid-swing, instead engaging in a staring contest with the unflinching Annie. When the blaster poked at Sasha again, she risked a peek behind her. It was an Imperial officer in a matching greenish-gray uniform, including the hat. He was the first Imperial she’d seen who put in effort to stylize his sideburns. His sneer and squinted eyes looking down at her was also something Sasha wouldn’t have been surprised to see from spoiled city folk. “We can forgive the children for being swayed by the problem child here. A bad influence, aren’t you, girl?” Even the condescension was spot-on.

  “Hang on a second,” said Connie. Nervous was underselling how he must be feeling. “Uh, you’re a Commander, right?”

  “It’s Captain Gage, you sculag,” said the officer. Was that another alien insult? “A true Imperial cadet would show more decorum before a commanding officer. Another slight we can forgive. It’s minute compared to the list of offenses the girl will face justice for. Unless you have something you’d like to confess as well, boy.”

  No. No one else should get hurt because of her! “I stole the nerf steak!” Sasha screamed. Too loud. Captain Gage winced and even picked at his ear. Annoying him was bad, but at least he was focused on her again. “It was only me.”

  “No it wasn’t,” said the Army trooper. “There was more than one primitive on that delivery run. And these cadets were nibbling on our dinner.”

  Gage grinned like a villainous monster from the bedtime stories Sasha’s mom used to tell her. “You don’t realize the depth of consequences you’ve set upon yourself, girl. Stealing from decorated Imperial Officers, inciting rebellious sentiment among your peers by sharing the fruit of your labor, assaulting men of the Empire that has graciously gifted your people the tools to obliterate the Titan epidemic threatening to…”

  This was all a show, meant to intimidate Sasha and her friends. A display meant to make them afraid to cross the Imperials ever again.

  And damn it, it was working. Sasha’s entire body was shaking. So was Connie’s. Reiner and Jean were clenching their fists, internally debating how much they could fight the Empire on this. What would Sasha’s punishment be? They knew what Shadis and Cadet Corps officers would do against petty thieves like Sasha, who had the added benefit of rising up to the top ten, so there had been mildly influential figures who quietly courted for her to join the MPs or Garrison. The Empire? They hardly cared about the top ten. They wanted the cadets to meet Imperial standards, not Shadis’. What Sasha did wasn’t a mistake from incompetence or carelessness. It was a crime.

  Jean’s talk about slavery wasn’t… unfounded. It didn’t come from nowhere. According to the holobooks, aliens and criminals were regularly forced into manual labor under the Empire. Now that Sasha’s pilfering was exposed, would she be booted out of the military and made to work at a mining site?

  “... happy I’ve decided to hold only you responsible,” Gage was saying. He was getting handsy, turning Sasha around so he could grab her chin and make her look up at him. Yeah, this was a real power trip for the guy. “The Task Force still needs fodder for securing the island, but you? We lost our share of droids in the initial crash and the Titan attacks in the days after. A servant girl can make up for–”

  “The pardon!” screeched Armin. “The pardon can still–”

  “I’m not arguing semantics with ignorant children. You’ve had enough time to acclimate already. This so-called cadet committed and confessed to a crime against the Empire. You are all witnesses.” Gage sighed, releasing Sasha’s jaw. His blaster pistol was still pointed at her. “These hurdles to authorize punishing insubordinate primitives are more troublesome than they’re worth, but the evidence is undeniable. Commander Frickett will approve, and we’ll have the justification if General Ziering looks into the case.”

  Frickett, Ziering – they weren’t names Sasha recognized as COMPNOR officers. They must be Army, if Gage was leading a small gang of Army soldiers.

  Armin had already graciously explained the hierarchy of the Empire to Sasha and others like her struggling in their studies. If Sasha remembered it right, then Armin could ask Stormtrooper Lieutenant Sunber to appeal to his superiors and find someone else to look at Sasha’s situation, override Gage. If Mikasa, number one in the top ten, still got to be a soldier in another unit, then maybe Sasha can also–

  Another Imperial grabbed at Sasha. This one went for her arm, and… it was a faceless Stormtrooper, not an Army soldier.

  “Ah, another witness,” Gage happily said, the helmeted trooper staring Sasha down through his expressionless visor. “Sergeant three-one-one, you may confirm this cadet to be the girl who stole a whole ration pack under your nose, and we can proceed with–”

  Sasha stumbled to keep herself upright, the Stormtrooper pulling her along as he walked away.

  She couldn’t recognize the individual Stormtrooper from looks alone. The armor covered in scrapes and stains didn’t help any in distinguishing these troopers from one another, but Sasha remembered the three-one-one designator. This was the leader of Gennith Squad, the team which Sasha and Daz had accompanied to deliver the nerf steak in the first place.

  “Sergeant!” Gage repeated with indignation.

  “We will handle Braus’ disciplinary action,” said the Stormtrooper.

  “The cadet has a price she must pay for her thievery!”

  Sasha watched more Stormtroopers arrive on the scene. One dropped a short stack of rectangular containers onto the Army Lieutenant’s arms; more nerf steaks. Another stepped between the Army trooper and stone-cold Annie, the pair of emotionless staredowns convincing the Army soldier to move away. More members of Gennith Squad, Sasha guessed. “Consider the debt owed to you paid in full,” 311 said.

  Captain Gage opened his mouth, but he had second thoughts and said nothing.

  The white-armored knights were escorting Sasha off now, away from the mess hall. While Gage and his Army boys stayed back to grumble amongst themselves, Sasha’s friends trailed after the Stormtroopers.

  “Where are you taking her?” asked Krista. “If Sasha is supposed to be tried for a crime, there are COMPNOR officers that can process it.” Officers who should be in the mess, not in the completely opposite direction.

  “Cadet Braus has another debt to pay,” Sergeant 311 said, “to Gennith Squad."

  Well, there were less egotistical vibes from 311 compared to Gage. That was… maybe not quite a good sign, since stormies were hard to get a read on in general, but a better sign. A tough but fair punishment instead of a whatever demeaning “servant girl” job Gage alluded to? Stormtroopers, clone or not, were like emotionless moving statues. They cared about the job, not grudges. At least, that was the impression Sasha got from Trost, training, and the holobooks.

  “This is a mistake!” yelled Mylius from the back of the crowd of cadets. “Who’s your see-oh? There’s, uh, a perfectly good explanation for–”

  “–stealing,” 311 finished. “She admitted it. She will take responsibility.”

  “We’re friends with Janek Sunber!” Connie tried. That was a white lie. Only Armin and sometimes Annie really hung out with Sunber. “He can vouch for–”

  “Gennith Squad answers to Lieutenant Spilik, not Sunber.”

  So these weren’t even the Stormtroopers who had saved them at Trost. The sinking feeling in Sasha’s stomach grew worse. COMPNOR stragglers and Cadet Corps trainers saw the party of younger soldiers following the Stormtroopers but didn’t interfere.

  “How will Sasha take responsibility?” Reiner asked. “What is her punishment?”

  No answer from 311. Sasha steadied her voice and spoke for herself. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  311 stopped walking, causing the whole entourage to stop. He let Sasha go and turned to face her. “Are you a soldier?” he asked. “Or a thief?”

  This was another test. With an obvious answer. COMPNOR officers gave out leading questions like this all the time.

  Standing tall and performing an Imperial salute, Sasha declared, “I am a soldier, sir! And I will face the consequences of my actions as a soldier!”

  Gotta give the Imps what they want if she was going to get out of this alive. Sasha repeated the mantra in her head and hoped for the best.

  Sergeant 311 pulled out a blaster pistol and aimed it at her face.

  She sensed her friends flinch and tense. Sasha commended herself for not moving at all. She didn’t break her saluting pose, only staring forward down the blaster. This was the moment, she told herself, where she would impress the Imperial testing her.

  “This, Cadet Sasha Braus, is a BlasTech kay-kay-five. It is an unreliable weapon, failing to fire properly when an Imperial Officer attempted to defend himself from one of your Titans. It does not have a stun setting. Do you understand?”

  “... I understand, sir,” Sasha said.

  311 squeezed the trigger.

  It was definitely Connie, Jean, and Mylius who yelped behind Sasha. Mina and Krista gave their own high-pitched shrieks.

  No blaster bolt left the space gun.

  “You may breathe now,” 311 said.

  Sasha sucked in a huge gasp of air and let the strength in her legs slip away. Sitting on her bottom, she panted until her breathing became more stable, the relief filling every fiber of her body.

  The Imp wasn’t going to murder her like this. The Empire wanted the Kyojinites to work for them, not drop dead. If they did, they could have just blown up the Walls and let the Titans finish the job.

  Still, that was really scary. Sasha was surprised she managed to keep her cool as long as she did. 311 had to believe Sasha was a good little soldier like the Empire wanted the cadets to be. She just needed a little more finessing to avoid taking hot commodities like the nerf steaks without permission. She’s a primitive and doesn’t know better, so it can’t be helped. The Stormtrooper was even giving a lecture to his small audience that Sasha could only half-pay attention to.

  The bottom line: serving the Empire triumphed over everything. As repetitive as it was, it was a rule Sasha’s been learning how to work with.

  “... while Joint Task Force Xamaural remains active,” 311 said in the wrap-up of his speech, “Cadet Sasha Braus will belong to Vabri Platoon.”

  … Wait, she’s what?

  311 took her by the arm again. The sight before Sasha was incredibly far away from a Titan, but she felt a similar sense of foreboding. “Consider this your graduation,” the Stormtrooper said. “You risked your wellbeing in order to steal from the Empire. Now you surrender your life and body in its entirety to Imperial service. Serve Gennith Squad well, and you may find redemption for your failings.”

  Maybe Jean’s worries about Mikasa and Eren had more merit to them than anyone gave him credit for…