I clenched my jaw together to stop the tidal wave of words that wanted to slice the girl to ribbons. Vega had said I needed to learn to read situations better. This girl felt threatened. And now she had a position of power over me. My face relaxed into a calm mask that I'd never fully mastered in my mother's court, but some of their lessons would serve me well here.
“My name is Amelie. I'm sorry if I've offended you.”
The girl’s attention was back on the aquarium, moving the prong in a figure eight. “I don't care.”
My grip on my prong grew tighter. So much for Vega's way. Now I'd try my way.
“We'll see who’s the last assistant standing then.” I placed the prong in the vat and copied her method. I wouldn’t allow her to undermine me in my element. I'd finally gotten where I'd always wanted to be, and no one would stop me now.
No one.
Chapter Seventeen
Dax
The lower I went into the station, the more positive I became. I'd been lumped with them again.
The laborers. The grunts. The laser fodder.
Engineering Support was the nice word, but we wouldn't be engineering anything. I may have been in the Academy, but only by the edge of my fingernails, and anything could push me out.
At least I had a place to go. I could’ve still been in my parents' hovel.
I'd spent the night in the small barracks with a long string of hover cots and three other kids that had a similar background to me. One named Trillium had even grown up two slots up from me.
My family had squatted in a pleasure craft garage, which provided a bit more room. We offered services to the family that owned it and made some credits occasionally. But not enough, never enough.
I refocused on what I could control and let the images of home slide back into the black. The other two had been from the Manufacturing-station. Raw materials from all the outer worlds went there for processing.
He had the appearance of the people from Man-station, haggard from working fourteen-hour days and pale skin from life in the factories.
After the eternal day of being tested, poked, and surviving the SIM, I'd snagged an MR bar from the dispenser and passed out on my narrow cot to the sound of Trillium snoring. It was better than the constant roar of engines in the Hub, so I'd slept well. Today, I followed the red arrows down.
And down and down.
A hum permeated the air and seemed to rattle every surface, vibrating my hands on the polysteel alloy. A moist heat rose, and sweat trickled down the side of my face.
“Where do you think we're headed?” I asked him as we took yet another ladder down a connecting tube.
“Dunno. Does it matter?” He didn't seem to be a deep thinker.
Of course, it mattered. The training we received here could set the path for the rest of our careers. When Vega had told me about the Academy, it had taken me a long time to process. It was hard to accept that I—Dax Smith, a Hub-born grease vermin—had been chosen for the elite school.
Graduation meant guaranteed placement. I would be set for the rest of my days. And more importantly, my sisters would be safe and fed. My worry faded when I thought of them. Miren's big dark eyes and Sade's constant questions. She was a bit like Amelie. Always curious. The diamonds of my world.
A small pang speared my heart, and I breathed it away. I missed them. But I was doing this for them. Maybe I could find a way to visit once my tour was over. The Hub wasn’t far by train. The thought made me smile.
We arrived at what felt like the bowels of the entire Axis station conglomerate. No more stairs to go down. A deep crimson glow lit the monstrous room. A low hum rose to an incessant whine underscored by the low chug of moving equipment. Steam wafted into the air and threaded through the ladders and scaffolding that lined the entire chamber.
Then I saw the workers.
Most were decked in gray one-piece jumpsuits like I'd worn on the Lazarus. Some had peeled them off to the waist, exposing their undershirts.
The herd of recruits pushed me on into the main chamber.
I reached down to attempt to pull back my calm, the center I could always fall into that soothed me. I’d dealt with worse. But this overblown garage felt like grit under my fingernails.
A man wearing a similar jumpsuit, but embossed with a constellation of stars, stepped up onto a scaffolding above the work floor.
The older man in the center of the platform put a hand up. He wasn't as short as some planetborns, but he was comparatively short. Dark hair shaved to the scalp, and laser divots striped his cheeks—three deep scars on each side to show his allegiance to the Man-station.
It gave him a wild deep-Hub savage look as he scanned the crowd. He brought a fist to his chest in salute.
To us.
I couldn't stop my eyebrows from dipping. I had not expected this. I wasn't sure what I'd expected, but not this. A burst of steam pulled my attention to the central mechanism, and I sensed more than felt something shift. Not something. Everything. Like the whole Axis had somehow...moved.
“Cadets!” The male pulled our attention back to him. His black eyes seemed to touch everyone and see everything. “I’m your new CO. My name is Lieutenant Commander Anton Petrov. You may be thinking you've been sent to the pit.” The hard tones of the OE Russian language flavored his standard.
Many from that country had gravitated to the manufacturing station. Only our Hub whiskey bested their vodka. And some even chose it over our homebrew. I preferred Hub whiskey myself.
I wanted to cross my arms and lean against the bulkhead. I wasn't in the mood for a list of threats and more punishments. I tried to forget everything and just dig into some work.
“You may think you are sent here for punishment. I say no. The Mil-station does not run without us. The ships would fall like dead stars without us. The soldiers would die in the cold of space without us. The Axis would stop turning without bol’shoy rebenok. Da?”
A few in the crowd laughed. My body remained at attention, but my mind wandered.
At least he wasn't telling us we were worthless, but he wasn't telling the exact truth either.
I'd worked in the garages and on the pleasure barges, and some of them played a good game of keeping the help engaged, but in the end, we were just tools. We had no power. We could be replaced just as easily as a magnetic power core.
We were interchangeable, and no one cared if we lived or died. These last few days were making me morbid. I had to find my inner quiet again. The same place I used each time something went wrong.
The man kept talking in his heavy Man-station accent. The recruits nodded, and I felt the attitude of the group shift. But not me. I knew what the future held, and it was not glorious.
The soldiers began to scatter, and I cursed myself for not paying more attention. I still needed to keep my status to keep the credits coming for the girls. I was set for life as long as I didn’t wash out. I turned to Trillium, who was double-timing it to the scaffolding.
“Trill, what are we supposed to do?”
He raised an eyebrow and gave me a sideways grin. “We're going to work on the rotator. We get to turn this bad boy.”
“Turn what?” I said.
“The station.”
I climbed up behind him. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Have you?”
“Naw. It’s supercharged, ain't it?”
My heart hammered as if I were prepping to fly one of the shuttles. But the thought of shuttles doused my spirits again, and I climbed to the next two levels of rungs slowly.
“It looks like a giant crankshaft,” I muttered.
Trillium grunted his agreement.
Two other Man-station cadets stood with us. They both raised their chins, and I responded in kind. I was careful not to be more friendly than they were. The Hub had taught me to reflect others until I could gauge their intentions. Friendly, but never too friendly.
Petroff took the floor.
“Future Engineers. Sh
ifting our portion of the axis is one of the most important tasks that you will be performing. The stations were not designed to be one entity. It is an engineering nightmare. Small manual movements are necessary to keep the structure from splintering into the black.”
Many eyes widened, and one girl raised a hand to her mouth. The information marinated in my mind. As always, I needed time to process.
“Prepare.” Some of the vets stepped back, and I copied them.
Long prongs erupted from the circular openings and slammed into the central mechanism.
“Find a handhold. Some of you will be pulling—some pushing. We will tell you when to stop. Do not progress beyond our command. Even a few millimeters could disrupt our spin, which could affect everything from our gravity to inter-ship transportation.”
How many thousands of lives were in our hands at this moment? My innards squeezed. Petroff was from Man-station and had experience. He knew what he was doing.
“Crap, Dax. This seems important. I didn’t think this job would have any stress.” His face had become a mask of tension.
I closed my eyes and tried to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Of course, it’s important. This is the Academy.”
“Not really. Not anymore. We’re support staff now.”
The desire to shake some sense into him nearly pulled me from my calm bubble. I allowed the feeling to wash over me, acknowledged it, and let it go. It wasn’t his fault I was salty about being here.
My thoughts rambled, and I almost missed the shout from the commander. A bright red arrow pointed forward for Trillium and me. We muscled forward. Everyone leaning in and fighting against the mass. It took almost a minute of full-out effort to move, and even then, it was sloooowww. Inches.
A thought rammed into my head. What if this was the rest of my life? No more adventures. No more Am. This was my new reality.
The commander shouted again, and we stopped. We had shoved the monstrosity approximately 1.5 inches.
“Good job, boys. Now back to the main floor for more instruction.”
The others hustled down, and I lagged, still trying to understand how bad I’d messed up. And there was no way to fix it now. My injured leg ached from the fake alien attack as I reached the floor and fell into formation. I tried to turn off my brain.
I could handle it, only fifty more years left before retirement. An unending pit opened up in my stomach, as deep as any black hole in the ‘verse.
Chapter Eighteen
Ethan
My hands grew sweaty. I rearranged the desk and reviewed my notes for the five hundredth time. A song came to mind, and I hummed along with the tune playing full blast in my head.
I'd flown for years in stealth and done maneuvers against pirates at the edge of the galaxy. Hell, I'd flown a Class A Battle Cruiser for twenty minutes solo and not killed everyone aboard.
A small miracle.
The classroom was on the larger side to accommodate the simulators. They were the best the Academy had to offer. No difference between flying these and the real thing, except the feel. Even if they were designed not to allow the cockpit to experience the forces acting on it, there was a feeling that the SIM just couldn't replicate. That would be what I'd show them—eventually. First, I had to gain their respect.
The cadets sauntered in. The first was a striking girl with pink hair. Next, a much shorter, likely planetborn girl with a pouf of hair that added about 3 inches to her height. Two non-descript rowdy boys, not much younger than me, entered behind them. All of them gave me a look, then another follow-up to verify my age and perhaps wonder what I was doing at the front of the class.
One of the big boys glanced around as if looking for the real instructor. It was time for me to take control.
“Cadets! Find a seat, or you will be out of the class.”
Most of the kids scrambled for the bench-type seats. A small group milled in the back, eyes flicking to the door again.
Interesting. I was getting some pushback already.
“You have one minute.” I remembered Gleason's voice when he was pissed about something, the way it would cut through me. I tried to emulate it. The last few decided not to take a chance and sat in the second row.
The timekeeper in the center of the room glowed green as it clicked down. When it hit ten seconds, it flickered to yellow, then red. At five, it timed out. A loud siren filled the room, and I motioned my hand to seal the entrance when I heard the slam of running boots on polyplastic.
They must be a latecomer to my class, and I wasn’t going to allow anyone to disrespect me, especially with the entire class scrutinizing me. With my age and this group, I had to maintain control.
I stood by the door, ready to pounce. A small whirlwind of a girl plowed into me with enough force to knock me on my ass. The class erupted in laughter. I twisted away from the heap on me and fought to my feet. It took two seconds to realize who the student was, but she hadn't been on my roster. I thought I'd see her later in the halls or mess, but there she was. Using a move I’d never seen, she flipped back onto her shoulders and used the momentum to pop back to her feet.
Vega. She was in the same disheveled state in which I’d first met her. Her long black hair had fallen, and a fierce light flamed in her deep, blue eyes.
Those eyes widened then narrowed to slits. Vega scanned the room with almost primal scrutiny, oozing intensity, and aggression. Her gaze fell back on me.
“Ethan. What are you doing here?”
Oh, this was not good.
Now that I had an audience, I couldn’t show any emotion or weakness or favoritism. Damn, this was gonna hurt and probably impair the bigger mission, but I couldn’t see another avenue.
I pulled my shoulders back and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m Junior Lieutenant James, and you will address me as such. I’m the instructor here. You’re late. Report to the pit for your duty assignment. If you’re late again, you will be expelled from class. Understood?”
Her full bottom lip dropped, and her eyes dilated. I could only imagine what she wanted to say and how much harm I was doing to our already damaged friendship.
Her nostrils flared, and she snorted and waited another beat as if I would retract my words.
No sound emitted from the class. They were riveted to her as well.
“Kiss!” One of the big cadets yelled, and the tension broke as the soldiers laughed again.
“Any more commentary and everyone will receive a demerit.” I didn’t raise my voice, but the din died. Finally, I felt the gravity shifting to favor me again.
But not with Vega. Naw, I could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears.
She slammed her fist against her chest in a salute. “Yes. Sir.” The words sounded like a curse as she pivoted and marched out of the room and down the hall. My stomach plummeted into free fall, but I took my place at the front of the class. All eyes on me, a measure of low-key respect that I would have to maintain buzzed through the room.
“Let’s talk about thrusters.” I launched into a discussion before my mind could snag onto images of Vega in the pit.
Sol save me. She might never forgive me.
Chapter Nineteen
Vega
I slugged forward, knee-deep in human waste.
Ethan Freakin’ James would die. I would cause the death, and I would enjoy it.
The pit wasn’t a place but a list of worst assignments given to those who broke the rules, or so the assignment officer had said. His lips had curled up at the corners in a mocking, slimy smile as the assignment lit up my wrist com—latrine cleaning for flight deck 5.
And of course, the main head had been blocked by some buffoon who had made it worse, and now the main drain needed attention. I wore an entire hazmat suit that shielded me from most of the smell and disease, but the sight of it left little to the imagination.
I used my metallic hook to work the drain and tried to keep my mind on anything but this pool of waste surro
unding me.
How Ethan had become my teacher, I didn’t know. The last time I’d seen him was on the flight deck.
Ethan had no call to punish me anyway. It wasn’t my fault I’d been late. One of the stupid upperclassmen had decided I needed to recite the motto of the school and our code before he would release me.
I couldn’t leave unless dismissed. Academy rules. It was one of the many stupid rules of this stupid place. But did Ethan give me a chance to explain? Did he even ask?
No. Ethan wasn’t just as bad as I thought—he was worse. A liar and tyrant. And now he was in charge of my flight training class? Worst case scenario.
I moved the metal hook rhythmically like the duty officer had told me and finally felt some give. The tube came out just above my head, but I couldn’t move until I’d released the blockage.
A deluge poured out and covered me. I thanked Sol, my ancestors, and every god still recognized by the Axis that the suit held. The liquid coated me from head to toe. I trudged through the muck, working my way back to the steps to the work platform. The sewage pool was knee-high and twenty-feet wide. And this was just for one flight deck. I couldn’t imagine how many more were scattered throughout the stations.
Clicking and whirring staticed through my external audio. I turned to find the sound. Oh crap. Literally. The waste moved like a river in a flash flood. Pure liquid poured from multiple tubes above, washing the dark away. My feet started sliding. I reached for something to stop my fall, but the downpour slammed into me, pushing me down and toward the drain to the recycler.
I slammed at my wrist com.
“Help! Help!” I tried grabbing something with the hook in my hand, but it didn’t work. Dropping it, I started moving my arms and legs, fighting the whirling current. The sewer wasn’t a SIM, and I was going to die. I was going die covered in crap. And I was going to die before I got a chance to kill Ethan.
Punching out, I created an indent on the polysteel floor, but I still had nothing to grab. The drain grew closer. Blood pounded in my ears, and my heart stuttered in my chest. Panic blanked my brain. I couldn’t think.
Cadet: Star Defenders Book Two: Space Opera Adventure Page 10