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  He smiled though, his blue eyes twinkling as if he knew what exactly the direction her thoughts took and the words she had nearly said. “Good. Good. Then we’ll start you with the initial holographic sitting position—”

  She opened her mouth to explain that something so basic really was not necessary, but he held up a hand.

  “We need to work through the steps, otherwise there may be questions down the line. Queries as to whether we went through every aspect. It could cause them to rescind your license. And I know that you’ve been looking forward to this since arriving. We don’t want someone taking it away because we didn’t follow the rules, now do we?” He leaned toward her conspiratorially.

  “No, Professor.” Her spine straightened, and she felt her hands fist, the pressure on her palms from her fingers. She released the fists almost immediately. She might not like what he said, but she didn’t want them to take away any freedom she managed to claw back. So she swallowed the ire that rose. Suck it up, girl.

  “Right...holo-projectors online. Run scenario Alfa-Juliet-Alpha-Beta-one-five-niner.” His voice carried a note of glee, and his eyes twinkled as he looked at her, and for just a second she could see beyond the aged body and white hair to the man he must once have been. Cheeky while he thumbed his nose at the system, she was sure. She felt a grin crawl over her face. I could really like this professor.

  A small, red air-bike appeared in front of her, and he motioned for her to get on. She straddled the seat, sinking into it as it conformed to her body shape. She sighed, even while she still marveled at the wonders of instantaneous actualized holographic emitters. This was one experience she’d looked forward to since arrival, and by God, she’d make the most of it. Jemma moved a little and got her bum comfortable in the seat.

  “Now depress the ignition button to start, and it should rise immediately.”

  Following the instructions, she felt a warm bubble of pleasure flare in her chest as the bike started to rise. Professor Anston handed her a set of goggles. “You’ll need these in a minute, my dear,” he said with a grin.

  Taking them in her hand, she noticed that they were holo-glasses, which would allow her to see the rest of the holographic information she would need to complete the test, the bike the only actualized form in the scenario. She slipped them over her eyes and saw an open road. Her grin widened, and she breathed in, stretching her chest and neck in excitement and pleasure. Oh, how I’ve missed this!

  Her hands grasped the bike handles, which conformed to the shape of her grip and became solid. Jemma moved them back and forth, getting the feel of the bike within her bones, making a connection on a wholly sensual basis as it thrummed beneath her body. The pleasure of the open road once more, no longer cooped up...

  She noticed that the professor was talking again.

  “In the next step, I want you to lap the bike on the road you see before you.”

  Lifting the glasses, she looked over at him and saw he wore an identical set of glasses to the ones she held, his white hair popping above the basic black goggles. He smiled at her. No doubt they had readouts concerning what she was doing as well as a visual feedback, she mused, but she felt a sort of kindred connection already and couldn’t help smiling in return. She slipped the glasses back over her eyes.

  “Go!” His word released her, and she let the bike go. Freedom, finally!

  The bike flew into the air, and she leaned into it as she had with her road bike. She felt the wind blowing as she followed the track designated. The bike felt smooth beneath her, the satisfying hum rippling through her body. Jemma reveled in the sense of freedom. It took no time to speed around the track and return to the start.

  He gave her further instructions, requesting she complete the track again, keeping a constant speed. Again, she did it almost instinctively, moving with the bike, leaning into the turns as if she was part of it. Lastly, he made her run a series of obstacles, which showed her ability to control the air-bike in wet, windy, and even dangerous conditions.

  She inwardly rejoiced, knowing she showed him her preparedness for her license. She pulled the goggles off and felt that she had passed the routines more than capably.

  It startled her when the professor clasped her hands firmly, praising her not just as a natural but talented at controlling the vehicle. “My dear, it has been many years since I’ve had the honor of licensing one so capable with an air-bike. I could only describe your performance as highly instinctive. I’ll arrange the necessary documentation for you, and you should be able to utilize it within the week to borrow an academy air-bike.”

  She grinned. Here lay the freedom she needed. “Thank you so much, Professor. You have no idea how much I’ve looked forward to this.”

  “Oh, I think I do, my dear. And to be honest, I look forward to teaching you on far more advanced vehicles soon.”

  Pleasure buzzed as he bowed her out of the holo-room with great ceremony. It startled her to realize she was drenched with sweat from the workout, but she felt elation at her achievement. She knew that most applicants for licenses were awarded at the age of twelve, but she had an inkling her test ended a little higher than the average.

  Just before he closed the door behind her, Professor Anston leaned over conspiratorially. “While the initial test was meant for a youngster, I played a little with the schematics and scenario, including some military-grade exercises just to see how good you were. I had a feeling you’d acquit yourself creditably. Your reflexes are quick and sharp, my dear, and I was sure you’d pass them easily.”

  Jemma left him after those words, focusing on the positives in his message. She had achieved an air-bike license and would soon be able to have access to an academy bike—that’s what mattered to her. Blessed freedom lay outside the institutional walls. Anything to escape, she told herself.

  Quickly slipping from the area, she made her way back to her quarters. Along the way she sighted an electronic flyer. Colonists needed for Alpha Star Colony caught her eye. The bold type screamed out to her. She stopped and swiped her wrist reader over the barcode; she could look further once she reached her dorm.

  She hurried onward as the thoughts danced in her head. Perhaps this was another new opportunity. After all, on a mining colony there would be opportunities, no academy, and most of all no annoying reminders of her past. She flew up the steps and along the corridor, her heavy boots beating a tattoo on the cold, unyielding floor. The small room at the end beckoned, and she palmed the door open.

  “Engage locks.” She headed to the desk screen, commanding, “Find all information concerning latest reader entries.”

  The screen threw up the image of the flyer she had seen. She read the sparse information. Support staff and miners required for Alpha Star Colony. Transportation covered with an indenture period of two years. That certainly gave her pause. Indenture was a big commitment, but it would only be for two years.

  “Bring up all known information on the Alpha Star Colony, subsequent command, a list of all positions still to be filled on the colony and educational requirements.”

  The screen filled with information concerning the Alpha Star Colony, the harsh climactic conditions, the impassible mountains that no one had managed to climb, quickly changing landscapes and massive canyons, the Ice Fields to the north and the main continent to the south.

  There was also a list of camps currently settled and a little information on the rare Duschem mineral they extracted, though the mineral’s uses were rated as a level-nine clearance for information. She snorted at that. “Must be military use,” she muttered.

  Oh yes, this could be her future, but she needed to know more. It wasn’t a decision to take lightly. Tapping once more brought up the information from the secondary search, and she browsed the positions. Mining didn’t really interest her—something physical, yes, but not mining. Security officer caught her eye though. Basic skills in piloting shuttles, training in weapons and hand-to-hand required certified level-seven skill a
cquisition. Both academy and non-academy graduates welcomed. She smiled. Yes, this looked more and more promising.

  A siren wailed loudly in the background, alerting her to shut the desk screen down. Yet one more reason to hate the academy—curfew. It interrupted her thought patterns all too often. She hadn’t had a curfew since leaving the orphanage at sixteen, and there she was, twenty-three and back at square one. She snorted in disgust.

  “Save all present data to personal files and conclude shut-down sequence.”

  Quickly making her way to the personal bathroom to complete her necessary preparations for bed, she then padded over to the narrow cot pushed into the corner of the small cell and crawled between the rough sheets.

  Instead of sleeping, she played visions of the vast new world in her mind. There she could probably be herself, be mistress of her own future—after a period of indenture, of course. She smiled as she lay in the darkness. “This could be just the opportunity I need.”

  * * * *

  “Captain, it is good to see you back. Mellissa, it’s great to have you back on board too.” Raven looked at Duvall, a man he had never really envied before. He was relaxed with his arm around his chosen life partner. A satisfied smile flitted over Duvall’s lips.

  “It’s good to be home. I know Mellissa wanted to get back too.”

  Raven looked at the woman beside his captain. She glowed in a way that spoke of good sex, relaxation, and something else. For a minute, Raven thought of a small dynamo with black hair and angry eyes. He thrust the thought aside for now.

  “I need to update you on that small job you gave me.” He looked at Duvall, waiting for his mind to click into gear.

  Duvall straightened, running his fingers through his black hair as if he wanted to push the knowledge of what they were about to discuss out of his head, and turned to Mellissa. “I need to deal with this. You go ahead and find Elara. I’ll be in the office as soon as I can.”

  Mellissa acknowledged with a brief touch of hands on his arm before heading off. They both waited until her footsteps died away.

  He turned back to Raven. “What happened?” he demanded, his face hard.

  “I passed on the message you sent through me, ostensibly from Grayson. I believe the term she used was ‘pissed’,” he said, watching for a reaction, knowing this whole mess upset Mellissa and as a result his captain.

  “What do you mean?” Duvall’s eyes narrowed as they zoomed in on Raven.

  “Exactly that. She was exceptionally unhappy that you refused to consider that she should leave the academy. As per your instructions, I didn’t pass on that the Admiralty was who made the determination.” He shrugged. “But I did glean some useful information since then.”

  Duvall looked at him, waiting with a raised eyebrow.

  “I made a couple of enquiries with some of the professors, since I happen to be in a position to know most of them.”

  Duvall’s eyes cooled slightly, but Raven couldn’t summon up a smile to relieve his captain’s tension.

  “Helps that my parents were on campus at the time and it was the retirement party for one of the professors, so I was able to make the enquiries under the guise of social chit-chat. Keep the queries off the radar, if you know what I mean.” He shrugged. “She has excelled in piloting and focused on weapons and hand training. She has already shown an aptitude toward engineering, though it would seem she has not chosen to make it her primary subject.”

  Duvall sighed. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, it seems she has picked up a statutes and laws course. She completed the basic self-sufficiency and the field medicals. She passed creditably well, from what I heard. She refuses to interact socially with the other cadets though. She has been categorized as not actively hostile, but certainly not an integrator. At the rate she’s completing courses and units, she could leave the academy within months to work as station or dirtside security, or even law enforcement.” He stopped for a moment and drew a breath. “In fact, her course choices don’t seem random. It seems she is now licensed for the air-bike and is well on the way toward levels D and E shuttle tickets. Her current certified hand-to-hand is rated as a five. You know what that means.”

  Duvall grimaced. “She’s well on her way to combat status or mining colony security rating.”

  Raven nodded. “Anston says she’s a natural. He also believes she’s standoffish with the other professors as a kind of passive aggression. He’s been working with her after hours because he thinks she could even make fighter grade, if she can increase her skills. I’ve asked him not to tell her at this stage.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his ship suit. “I’m not sure that’s enough to deter him from suggesting fighter school. I know you’re worried about her and Mellissa thinks of her as a little sister, but perhaps you need to cut her some slack. Let her see what she can do.”

  “I would, but Crick Sur Banden has used her once and Mellissa...well, Mellissa worries about her.” He looked up to the girders making up the spine of the Elector, letting out a sigh. “She refuses to talk to either of us, and so far, you’re the only one she’s seen since we made it dirtside. She refused to attend the ceremony, and Mellissa… She worries.” He smiled. “And a man has to keep his woman happy. Keep looking around and discreetly asking questions. See what else we need to be aware of.” He started to walk away.

  “Why not get Chowd to take over?” Raven waited for Duvall’s answer, fists jammed into the pockets of his ship suit and feet braced.

  “Because there would be too many questions if he was seen on campus. You can come and go at will and no one will think twice,” Duvall answered briskly, walking away and leaving Raven to ponder this for a moment before he turned back toward the corridor and engineering.

  * * * *

  “Cadet Cardnew, could you stay behind for a moment? I would like to discuss something with you.” Professor Anston made his request from below shaggy brows, a half-smile lighting his face.

  Jemma stopped and looked at him. “Sir?” What have I done wrong now? But the professor had been good to work with, so she waited patiently while the students in the piloting program filed out, laughing playfully, chatting with the others in their groups.

  “I’m not supposed to tell you, but I believe you should consider leaving the academy.”

  It was a sucker punch to her stomach. Sure, she didn’t want to stay there, but what the freaking hell had she done now? Her stomach roiled. If she had to leave, where would she go? She hadn’t yet achieved the required ratings for the indentured security officer position on the Alpha Star Colony. She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand.

  “Your skills are wasted here. I’d like to suggest you for the Combat Fighter Program.”

  Jemma stopped, startled. What? She felt excitement filter throughout her body. “But only the best of the students are able to get into that program. The scores needed to get in...well, I haven’t achieved them, let alone done any kind of preparatory studies, and there is a waiting list as long as my arm. I know because I looked it up when I first came and discounted it.” She looked at him, half-daring to hope. “My other scores are pretty basic across the board.” She hated admitting that she hadn’t worked to her full potential at other subjects, but honesty in this case would be the best policy. Besides, she would never get anywhere by deceiving herself. Her heart dropped once more like a stone. He’d most likely change his mind now that she admitted her scores and lack of preparation.

  “I am aware of those things, but I have a wild-card entry to the program, and I believe you’d be the best one to use it with. I believe your natural ability would benefit the Empire.” He stopped and waited for her answer, watching her intently.

  The silence grew while she digested this information. Could she do it? Should she take this chance? Would she regret a wasted opportunity if she didn’t take what was offered? Hell yes! She already had enough regrets in her life, and she didn’t need any more.

  “You reall
y think I could do this?” It came out like an awed whisper. Her? A combat fighter pilot? Only the best of the best got that status. “But what about my grades and not having the sort of experience they claim you need to have?” she said, her words cold like ice. She was being wound up, surely. But the possibility...

  “I know you could ace the program. However, you’d need to be committed to it. I’m happy to tutor you in the initial stages, but you need to give it everything,” he replied, his voice stern but his eyes flashing with confidence.

  For just a moment, the idea danced in her brain. Take this opportunity and be someone. The thought tempted her. “Oh God! I never thought about it. I mean, my scores...” Her voice trailed off. She looked up at him, and once more she questioned the opportunity. “You are serious, aren’t you?”

  “Never more so. But if you take this chance, you have to give it your all.” His words were firm, filtering through to stun her once more.

  She stood upright, letting the knowledge flood her system. She could do this. She would do it and be bloody successful too. “Oh, I want it. More than I ever thought I would. What do I need to do?” Her fingers rose to the front of her academy suit, shaking, and her heart hammered in her chest. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as they throbbed and hummed with excitement. She felt tightly wired, like a spring.

  “Good. Just wait there,” he said, and reached for his wrist chrono. “Perkins? I have my wild card in line. I want her moved immediately into the program.”

  “Really? Who did you choose?” The tinny voice echoed in the nearly empty room.

  “Cadet Cardnew.” He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but grin back.

  I probably look like a drunken fool, but I don’t care, this is the best thing that ever happened in my life.