“Help!” I screamed again.
Something snagged me. It felt like one of the metal hooks, but it moved. I was being pulled away from the drain and back to the platform, but I was facing down and away, so I couldn’t see who had me.
I struggled to help and crawled onto the platform panting. The cleaning solution had removed most of the muck from my suit. I rose to my hands and knees, hitting the release for the hood and panted.
After a few sharp intakes of breath, I pushed to stand. A gloved hand extended to help me. I took it and raised my face.
“Thank you. That would’ve been a horrible way to go, right? Flushed into the recycling.” My voice stuck on the last word.
The person who’d saved me had also removed their helmet.
I knew that face. Remembered it vividly.
I remembered those lips too—thick and full. Smooth, light-brown skin, dark brown eyes, and close-cropped curly hair.
Jess. My Jess.
I must have tilted back as the ground shifted. Jess’s iron hold on my arm steadied me.
“You okay, Cadet Volante?” he asked in that voice that tickled the inside of my belly. The left side of his lip quirked up.
“Um, Jess. I mean, Lieutenant Held. What are you doing here?” Last I’d heard from him, he was stationed on the AX Atlantis, battling the aliens on the outskirts of the known galaxy.
“I just got in and did a search for your ID and found you stationed here. Thought I’d check-in.”
“And you have clearance to be here? Not that I’m not grateful. You did save me from being floated.”
He snorted, and this time fully smiled at me, and that tickle in my stomach became a somersault. “I have clearance. We have a lot to catch up on.”
That was the understatement of the last millennium. “I have hand-to-hand and drills. Then I have a block of free time at dinner.”
“It’s a date. I’ll meet you by the mess hall.”
“I’m not sure where that is.”
He smiled again, unguarded and honest. When Jess said or did something, there was no second-guessing or wondering if he meant it. I returned the smile and shrugged. “Somethings never change.”
“And some things do.” His voice had a sad undertone that made my heart clench.
“What? What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later after you’re cleaned up. And don’t stray near any more open waste receptacles without a proper safety line.” He pointed an accusing finger at me, and I tilted my head.
He wasn’t wrong. I was supposed to put on a safety line but had thought I’d get it done faster without it gumming up my progress. Plus, talking to Jess looking like I’d just taken a swim in a toilet was not how I’d envisioned our reunion.
“Okay. And Jess?”
“Hmm.”
“It is so good to see you.” I don’t think I ever meant anything more.
The sadness leaked back onto his face, but he nodded. “You too.”
He turned for the sliding door, waving at me as it slipped closed before I could press him more. What had he meant? Did he not feel the same about me anymore? I knew I’d had my doubts about our relationship, but hearing his voice and seeing his sigh-inducing smile was enough to erase all seven months of separation.
I made my way back to the shower sani-station and located a real H20 shower. I was going to get scrubbed. My heart fluttered in my chest, remembering the time we’d spent together. Our first mission. Saving him from the aliens and barely surviving. But it really bonded us. And the date night... That had been...once in a lifetime. Perfect.
Then we had been assigned to different ships, but now, for some reason, he’d returned. Maybe we could still work things out. Perhaps I’d get to see him in U170 overalls yet. I entered the private cleaning area and peeled off my suit.
If we survived this stinking war.
If I survived the Academy.
I would. I had too much to fight for to give up. Screw the Academy commanders and screw Ethan. I’d do it. I’d show them.
Chapter Twenty
Ethan
This class was excellent. Not just good, they were amazing. I was having a hard time tracking all the class’s reaction times as they went through their first scenario.
“Seven, you’re tilting too far to the left, and you're leaving your wingman unguarded. Adjust course.”
“Yes, sir.”
It felt strange after the Lazarus to be addressed by my title. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be a lieutenant. To be in charge. I’d fought for five years to get my commission and to be certified as an agent—the youngest ever, according to Gleason. I'd been perfect for the duty on the Lazarus, still young enough to fit in with the conscripts yet with enough experience and training to hold my own. Or so I thought.
No matter what Gleason said, I still felt like a failure.
I'd let the Axis Military down. I let myself down. I let Gleason down. I couldn't do that again.
“Seven, adjust two degrees. Do you plan on destroying a piece of Ax-Mil equipment that’s worth more than you are?”
“No, sir.” The planetborn girl’s eyes never strayed from her monitors. Her name was McKenzie, and she was made of ice.
No ruffling her, but her reactions weren’t instinctual. Every move was a half-second too slow, and her sense of spatial differentiation was off.
“Get in formation.” I displayed a mock group of fighters as an example. “Like this. Stay close but not on top of each other.”
The hover screen in front of me showed the entire simulation. The representation was 4D, so I could gauge what all the participants were doing.
I observed and rated each of them. At least three of the students could go into combat flight immediately. They'd probably be better than me once they got the proper experience. But they’d never been under threat.
That was about to change.
It was time to crank up the thrusters on this exercise.
I splayed out my fingers, and the same number of arrow-shaped hostile ships appeared on screen. To the participants, it looked like a horde of ships taking attack positions surrounding them.
Now the fun would begin.
I positioned my swarm of Hornet-class fighters. Pressing a button on my desk, the full set of controls rose. I settled into my chair and joined the SIM leading my squad.
My attackers came in high and wide as the Red and Green groups flew in close formation. No one had turned on their shields, and only one had armed their laser missiles.
I turned on my internal speaker. “Cadets, you are under attack.”
One of the students tried to use evasive maneuvers and bumped the ship next to him, almost causing them to crash. Five had been nervous from the first but twisted the controls until he evened out.
The tall girl, Binary, had taken control of the Green Squadron. Great initiative. Since I had left leadership open-ended, her hands were loose on the controls, but she moved them deftly. Her ship nearly danced as she navigated and barked orders to her crew. She’d been in the mil for a while or had trained hard. I’d have to read her complete file after class.
“Split up. Red to port. Follow Kenzie. Green, stay on me.” Her voice was strong but not panicked. They listened to her. She made my job harder. I broke up my ships to account for the split.
I followed the red crew. Down and around splitting and looping, their ships swooped down. My attention divided as I guided eight fighters. I set four on auto to keep Green Squadron busy while I took out Red.
My heart skipped in my chest, and I leaned forward, forgetting this was just a SIM. I didn't realize the instructor's side could be so fun. I used the Kumar maneuver and targeted one of the pilots who’d strayed too far from his wingman.
“I have a kill shot, One. What are you going to do?” The alarms screamed. The boy’s simulator flashed in a manic pulse of light and sound. He broke right as his support appeared and fired, but his trajectory was off, and now his compani
on was an easy target. I pulled the trigger.
The SIM lit his cockpit like an explosion, and he groaned loudly. Two bolted and seemed confused. Her flight path became erratic. It took me less than two seconds to dispatch her. She bit her lip nervously as her simulator screeched and went dark.
Then the lights in the classroom flashed red.
“I have you in my cross-hairs, Instructor. What are you going to do about it?” I jerked back to my display and found that Binary and her wingman had taken out all of my other ships. I opened my mouth then closed it.
Too confident. That had been one of my weaknesses and apparently still was.
“Nice work,” I finally said, and the chime binged to indicate that the class was complete.
The students began to file out of the room. Binary saluted me and left with her planetborn friend, their heads huddled together as they went, whispering.
I released a deep sigh and slumped into my seat. It was only the first day, and I already felt like I was in deep space without a suit.
And my primary mission, getting close to Vega, had been derailed like a cross-Axis transport. I didn't have another class for two hours. Maybe I could locate Gleason, and he could give me some direction. I replaced the SIM equipment and searched my wristlet.
Lieutenant Commander Gleason, level two training atrium. Hand-to-hand Combat Training. In session.
I jogged to the lift reviewing the hundreds of ways today could've gone better.
Chapter Twenty-One
Amelie
Nanami didn't like talking, interacting, or answering questions. Nor did she like me. I spent the hour copying her.
Dr. Sinclair didn't return. I took some notes in the journal concerning my observations of the Sinclairs. My arms ached from the near-constant stirring.
Not the best first day, but there was still hope.
I took off my protective gear and looked up my next class assignment. Physical training. Ugh. I was still sore from yesterday, and now my arms were weaker than usual. Maybe the instructor wouldn't notice me in the back, and I'd have more time to review what I'd learned in the research lab.
Why did a mil-science cadet have to learn combat anyway? I would be so much more effective at designing new weapons and studying lifeforms. If only I could get my hands on a cadaver of one of those crustacean alien lifeforms. I could be very effective in the war efforts. A very morbid thought that most normal people didn't have.
Most people didn’t focus on dead life forms and feel excited. At least that was what my mom would've reminded me for the thousandth time. I still couldn't believe she hadn't even greeted me on arrival. But what should I have expected from a high lady of the Edu-Satellite. She had mixers and socials and interstellar charity drives to fund Hub education. Being at the dock for five minutes to see her oldest child would’ve totally ruined her day.
I would not let it bother me. I’d met Newton Sinclair, and my dorm mates had been stellar. Everyone sat in their cubicles reviewing info chips—all focus. No one bothered me.
I ate, studied, and slept.
The only time someone had spoken was to ask me politely to stop crunching my guzzle chips. They didn't even take one when I offered it! Which was strange. I'd gotten used to Vega's chatter. The Science Dorm was a massive change from the Lazarus’s accommodations.
A large group of cadets had already arrived in the gym, all clad in their blue suits. I searched the faces.
“Dax!” I yelled.
He was standing with three other boys, all dressed in gray. He'd also taken on a gray outfit. I reviewed what I knew about the Academy, but nothing came to me concerning gray overalls. They looked like our uniforms from the Lazarus, which worried me. Where had they assigned him?
“Hey, Amelie. How're you doing?”
My heart squeezed a bit with his quick distancing, but it was a professional, military environment. I probably shouldn't be throwing myself at him. His voice was different, too, tighter, not as casual.
“I'm great. I met Dr. Sinclair! You know who Newton Sinclair is, right?” I waited for him to nod, but he shook his head slightly, a sadness haunting his eyes.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing. Tell me about this Sinclair person.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but something grabbed me low around the waist and lifted me from the floor.
“Amelie!” Vega put me down a bit too violently, as was her way. She never did know her own strength.
I rotated and hugged her. Professional or no, I'd missed her. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in days, and it's only been fourteen hours and thirty minutes.”
Vega laughed and took a deep breath. “And you would know the exact amount of time. I have so much to tell you guys. Jess is back. The Ax Atlantis is here!”
“Who is Jess?” Dax asked.
I searched back through our conversations on the Icarus over the last few weeks. She had spoken of Jess a few times. And the original news report about interaction with the aliens had spoken of someone with that name. “Your boyfriend is back?”
She quirked her head to the side and seemed at a loss for words. She cleared her throat. “We're friends. We dated before I got assigned to the Lazarus.”
Dax, for one of the first times since I'd known him, looked shocked.
A man took the elevated platform in the center of the gymnasium. I knew him. He was the man who'd been so friendly with Ethan. His mentor.
“This is Close Combat Training. I will be teaching you to survive. Prepare to get bloody.”
He stalked around the circular platform, making sure that every eye was firmly on him. He smiled. Or I think he smiled. His beard twitched, and his eyes crinkled.
“Before you start groaning about how you already have a hand-to-hand combat knowledge, listen to me. One new technique. One new move. One new throw could be the one that saves your life. And the lives of everyone on the Mil-station. You are the heroes of tomorrow. You saw the holos of the alien threat.”
I looked down at Dax's leg. He didn't seem to be limping, but those creatures had been a nightmare. And Vega had said that the representation was basically correct. Maybe knowing some hand-to-hand combat wouldn't be that bad.
“I would like to see your current level of expertise. Break up into groups of four and spar. Your goal is to pin your opponent to the mat. Non-lethal force only.
Non-lethal.
Shouldn't that have been an understood concept in a training exercise? I wanted to hide behind a pile of humbleballs.
Maybe I could. No one seemed to be taking attendance.
“Don't worry, Am. You can be in my group. I won't let anyone hurt you,” Dax said.
I shifted to look up at Dax. I hadn't realized I had put my hand over my mouth, and my face must have reflected my horror.
“Thanks. Always my hero.” It fell out of my mouth before I could stop it. Heat rose in my cheeks as fast as shooting stars, and I examined the floor.
He didn't say anything else. It was good he didn't because I didn't have any answers for him or myself about my feelings. Feelings were stupid messy things that gummed up the best brains.
Vega was searching for a fourth but froze. Her gaze stuck on the entrance.
Ethan stood there. Vega marched over to him, eyes narrowing to thin slits. She said something I didn’t hear and poked his shoulder. Ethan blinked rapidly and started to speak, but she whirled and returned to us.
“What was that about? What's Ethan doing here?”
“He's a supreme butt nugget, and I don't want to talk about it. We'll talk about it back in our—I mean—” Vega looked lost as she shifted her full attention to me. “I really miss you, Am. I got in a fight with my new—”
“Less talking. More fighting.”
I jumped. The instructor had sidled up to us so quietly I didn't notice him coming.
“Where's your fourth?” he asked.
I'd let personal feelings and conversation distract me. How was I ever
going to make an impact and get my commission if I didn't focus? I searched around, ready to grab anyone.
Ethan strode across the floor as if he owned the gym. He did look dashing in his officer's white suit. “Sorry, sir. I distracted the cadet.”
Vega’s eyes widened until I could see the whites around them. Her hands clenched as if she wanted to jump him.
And not in a good way.
The Lieutenant Commander’s eyes slid between them then flicked to Dax and me. He was smarter than he looked for being Mil-station muscle. He was assessing. I didn’t like that.
I usually ignored my emotional responses, but this one was strong. This man meant harm.
“I’ll join your group. Ethan, would you please wait for me outside the classroom.”
Ethan hesitated, his indigo blue eyes locked onto Vega, a pained expression on his face. I didn’t know what he’d done, but it must have been a capital offense in Vega’s book.
Inching back two steps, I attempted to gauge Dax’s take on the happenings. He wouldn’t look at me. Why wouldn’t he look at me?
My stomach contorted into a knot and twisted. I’d done something wrong. Said something. I always said something wrong. But Dax always understood.
The Lieutenant. Commander inserted himself between Dax and me and jabbed a finger at me.
“We’ll start with you.”
My blood chilled in my veins.
He cracked his fingers, and I fought to remember how to stand. What had Vega said? Stance was everything. I bent my knees and raised my fist to defend myself.
I opened my eyes to a glowing roof. My head spun, and my jaw throbbed.
“Up.” The instructor barked.
I rolled to my left and pushed up from my haunches. A boot whizzed at me, directed at my face. I jerked and fell onto my back. Shaking, I rolled over and crawled.
Boots followed slowly, ramping my adrenal response. It didn’t matter that it was a training exercise. It didn’t matter that I shouldn’t be scared. I was.
Cadet: Star Defenders Book Two: Space Opera Adventure Page 11
