Chương 30: The Officer's Club

Academy Hill, Vidako Imperium Stellarum September 30, 2847"You don't have to worry what he's going to think," C'rise of Bian said, from the other side of the dorm. It was rare for the LeShaii to speak to Cassie. During the six weeks of Hard Burn, it had been easy to pretend that was because they were all so busy. Now that classes were in session, and the other three roommates spent so much time together, alongside Arc and Pika, that pretense had become more difficult.

"I hate when you do that," Cassie said. She didn't turn away from the mirror, instead adjusting her cadet's cap minutely in an attempt to conceal the scars on her scalp. She'd thought about putting on the wig that she'd purchased in The Valley, during her day out with Arc, but every cadet on campus who saw her would know instantly what she was doing, no matter how careful she was.

"Then stop thinking so loudly," C'rise said.

"It would certainly make my life easier if you weren't constantly shouting your infatuation to everyone with ears to hear. He likes you too, and a shaved head isn't going to change that."

"I'll be downstairs," Vee grumbled. Cassie didn't turn to see her friend go, but she certainly heard the door slam. There wasn't anything she could do to make the cap look any better, she decided, so she turned and faced the psycher, meeting the alien woman's vibrant pink eyes.

"I notice you don't have any healing scars on your head."

"No," C'rise said.

"No one is certain how implanting neural lace into my brain would affect me. It's never been attempted on any of my people before. I expect it will be years of medical studies before anyone tries."

"How are you going to pilot a mech, then?" Cassie demanded. She tried to think back and recall whether she'd seen the other cadet get into a simulator pod, during their first lesson with Lieutenant Commander Libby. She must have.

"LeShaii mechs use a psionic interface, rather than an electronic one," C'rise explained.

"My father saw to it that what I needed was shipped to the academy."

"You're not going to be piloting a Tyro," Cassie guessed.

"No." C'rise shook her head.

"When we are cleared to move from simulators to piloting, I will be permitted to use a…" She paused.

"I don't know the word in Imperial Standard. What is the name of a rotating star that emits radiation from its poles?" Pulsar, Lyra answered, before Cassie could even think about it. She's talking about a pulsar. Cassie sighed.

"We call it a pulsar."

"That is the name of the model," C'rise declared, and one of the only smiles that Cassie had ever seen crossed her face.

"You will see it, in time." She turned and walked to the door, then hesitated with the handle in her grasp.

"Would it make you more comfortable with my presence if you learned to shield your thoughts?"

"If I knew you couldn't read my mind—like if there was some sort of implant, or genetic modification, that made it impossible –" Cassie hesitated.

"Yes. I think it would."

"I don't know about any of those things," C'rise said, without turning away from the door.

"But I could teach you to discipline your mind, if you wish."

"Why?" Cassie asked.

"I haven't exactly been welcoming to you."

"No. But I can feel that you are afraid of me," C'rise said.

"And the boy you like—he is kind. He came to speak to me when he saw that I was upset. If Cadet Sandhurst can see something in you worth caring about, I will choose to believe him." She slipped out into the corridor and closed the door behind her, leaving Cassie alone with her thoughts. 𝝮 The first class of Monday morning was Astronautics, and as Arc had guessed when the two of them were sitting next to each other during the space elevator's descent, all those weeks ago, it was held in a packed lecture hall.

So far as Cassie could tell, every one of the forty-nine remaining first year pilot cadets was there, as well as all of the technical students. She sat between Arc and Rain, and it did not escape Cassie's notice that Vee sat on Arc's other side. They took the second to last row, so that Pika could spread out just behind them without having to worry whether anyone would be able to see over his head.

To Cassie's surprise, three of the tech students joined them, filling in at the edges of the group: Moore, Tremblay, and Natalie Ramírez, who'd all been with her and Arc on the ill-fated water gathering expedition.

"How's that leg doing?" Cassie asked, once they'd all settled in.

"Better every day," Ramírez said, from the last row, where she'd sunk into a seat next to Pika.

"Though it hurts like a puta after I've crossed the whole campus six times to get from one class to another." Cassie tried not to be jealous of the fact that Ramírez still had all her hair. It wasn't her fault, after all, that the techs didn't get neural lace. The other girl must have caught her glance, however, for she leaned forward.

"How bad is it?" she asked. With a wince, Cassie removed her cap.

"Ouch." Ramírez returned the wince in sympathy.

"Looks like it's healing up good, though. I bet your head is in better shape than my leg, in a week or so." Cassie pulled her cap back on, but before she could respond, Professor Void Skimmer walked in, took her place at the lectern, and gave out a high-pitched, warbling trill that silenced the room. Unlike Vee, the Torean professor had hardly any color at all: her feathers were black and white, and she wore a skirt suit to match.

If Cassie hadn't already known that she held no rank in fleet, that alone would have told her.

"Some of you may be wondering why you're here," Void Skimmer said. She stepped out from behind the lectern and began to pace back and forth at the bottom of the hall.

"You might be thinking, 'I've already decided I'm going to pilot an Outrider, or a Culverin. Why do I need an introduction to astronautics if I'm not going to fly a Kestrel or a Leviathan? Or you're one of our tech students, and you figure that you're going to be hot-swapping cannons for lasers on a mech's hardpoints in between sorties. This crazy feathered lady down here talking to you certainly doesn't know anything about that. And you're right." She grinned.

"But here's the truth," the professor went on.

"Chances are that at some point you're going to do a deployment on a carrier, or at the top of an orbital elevator. Maybe you'll be hunting pirates in some asteroid belt. Or maybe, you'll be part of the carrier battle group chasing the Na'xir Swarm back to whatever hunk of rock they came from. We're going to need to land mechs when we find them, you can bet on that."

"If it hasn't occurred to you yet that any member of fleet—no matter what their role—benefits from a basic understanding of how to navigate in zero gravity, you haven't been using your head the way it's meant to be used," Void Skimmer went on.

"Even if you're never going to be a pilot, you may find it useful to get qualified on a shuttle. If you want to understand tactics well enough to be a competent officer, I hate to break it to you, but you're going to need to be able to solve a two-body problem."

"That," she declared, "is why you're here. We're going to talk about satellites; about orbital mechanics; communications, sensors, propulsion systems, how to deal with heat, what kind of power we need, attitude and control systems. This course is a prerequisite to literally anything that's going to take you further along our zero-g track, from astrodynamics to propulsion and astrophysics. You start here, and if you don't pass my course, you don't get any further." This novel's true home is a different platform.

Support the author by finding it there. Void Skimmer grinned.

"Now, let's begin." 𝝮 In the mornings, they went to academic courses. After lunch, they threw themselves into training under Lieutenant Commander Libby in the simulators. This time, Cassie paid attention to where C'rise went, when they all made for their own individual pods. The LeShaii girl went to the very last place on the left, where a rope had been placed to bar the stairs down, and a sign read 'authorized personnel only.'

Cassie tried to get a glimpse of what might make that pod different from all the others, but she must have lingered for too long, because Libby glared at her and made a shooing motion toward her own simulator. Rather than risk the instructor's ire, Cassie hurried down the metal stairs and got herself hooked in, leaving her curiosity for later. On Tuesday evening, instead of getting dinner with her friends, Cassie nervously waited in front of Tycho Hall.

Jessica, she knew, would be somewhere nearby, her silent shadow, and that thought was comforting. She almost didn't do it. Though it was only a single meal, agreeing to go to the officers' club felt almost like a betrayal—especially because, while Arc had been right there when Fletcher Radecki had made the invitation, he hadn't been included in it. A part of Cassie had wanted to push for that, and she still might, if the first visit went well.

The last thing she wanted was to leave her friends behind, so she chose to think of this as a scouting expedition. She would go to the officers' club and see whether there was something worthwhile to be had there—advice from upperclassmen, for instance, or the chance to get one-on-one time with a professor. And if it was worth her time, and if Cassie was invited again, she'd insist on bringing at least one of her friends. And there were other reasons not to refuse the invitation, as well.

Radecki called out to her as he approached, a wide grin on his face.

"Good evening, cadet. Ready to have a better meal than the dining halls provide?"

"Ready to try it, at least," Cassie agreed, and stepped forward to walk at his side.

"I looked you up, you know," she admitted. The twin suns were swiftly falling, making long shadows stretch out from their feet across the paved paths as they set out across campus. Radecki gave an exaggerated wince.

"My secret's out, then."

"You're the eldest son of Senator Tarquin Radecki, the senior senator from Proxima Centauri," Cassie said.

"Whom I've met, actually, on more than one occasion."

"You got me," Radecki said, clutching at his chest as if he'd been shot, then flashing a grin.

"You've met me too—or, at least, I shook your hand in a receiving line once, a few years back. I doubt you remember."

"I meet a lot of people in those lines," Cassie said.

"I hope you aren't offended if I don't recall."

"There's no reason you should have," Radecki assured her, with a wave of his hand.

"But I remember you, of course. It's not every day you meet a princess imperial. And a beautiful one, at that." I've cross-referenced attendance records, Lyra said, from that nebulous space she occupied within Cassie's thoughts. He attended the charity gala to raise funds for the lost ring-miner's families from Proxima C. He was seventeen, and you had just turned fifteen, at the time.

"Lyra tells me it was to raise funds for the lost miner's families," Cassie said, as they turned north away from the academic buildings.

"I remember when I heard about what happened—how they died when they ran out of oxygen. It sounded horrible."

"It was." Radecki's smile slipped away from his face when he nodded.

"I was with my father when he met with some of the families. I was already interested in medicine at the time but hearing about that got me to thinking about zero-g rescue operations."

"Is that why you're minoring in battlefield medicine?" Cassie asked.

"And I assume you're on the zero-g track."

"I've already qualified on a Kestrel," Radecki confirmed.

"I'll do a tour of duty in fleet, and then I'll head home and see if I can use what I've learned to improve rescue operations. Safety regulations, funding, that sort of thing."

"I'm certain your father has the connections to get you started." Up ahead, Cassie saw the lights of the officers' club, sparkling through wide windows, and the shadows of waiters and diners moving inside.

"And I presume at some point you'll run for office. The military service will help with that, as well."

"That is the plan. If I can get into the senate—perhaps when my father retires—I can work to fund rescue operations throughout the Imperium." Fletcher offered her his arm as they approached the door, and Cassie took it automatically, as she'd done for more men than she could remember at a hundred or more state functions. The door hissed open automatically, and a uniformed host stepped forward.

"Cadet Fourth Class Sabran-Solaris is my guest this evening," Radecki declared.

"Of course," the host declared, with a sharp nod.

"And the other lady? Is she with you, as well?" Cassie glanced back, to see that Jessica had appeared out of the evening shadows at their heels. Radecki frowned.

"No," he said, slowly.

"I'm afraid that I don't know her."

"She's with me," Cassie said, but the host was already shaking his head.

"My apologies, but any underclassmen who wishes to eat at the club requires an upperclassman to vouch for them. You'll have to return to your regular dining hall." He actually stepped directly into Jessica's path, at which Cassie raised her eyebrows. He was going to be lucky if Jessica didn't put him through a window. Cassie's bodyguard must have been feeling restrained that evening, however, for she only took out her insignia and flipped it open.

"Imperial Guard," she declared, and Cassie was amused to see that Fletcher took a step back.

"I'm here as the princess imperial's security detail. I'll require access to your kitchen and to your security feeds while she's here."

"I—of course," the host said, and inclined his head.

"My apologies, agent. I didn't realize. Princess Sabran-Solaris, Cadet Radecki, your usual table is ready. Agent Morrow, I'll show you to the kitchen and introduce you to our security personnel."

"Was she behind us the entire time?" Radecki leaned in to ask, his voice a soft whisper, as he escorted Cassie across the main floor of the restaurant and to a large, circular table with two empty seats.

"She always is, even if you don't see her," Cassie assured him. As they approached the table, she realized that she recognized several of the cadets who were sitting there. Not the Torean girl who was scanning her with narrowed eyes, nor even the Alu'kan who could hardly fit into his chair, but certainly Ireti Ọlatẹru and Cassie's cousin, Bhaskar Xiao-Solaris. The conversation died when Cassie and Radecki stopped at the two open chairs.

"Who's this?" The Torean girl asked, her face already half set in a sneer.

"You brought a mole rat, Fletcher?"

"That mole rat is my cousin, Her Imperial Highness, Princess Cascada Sabran-Solaris," Bhaskar said, leaning back in his seat next to Ọlatẹru.

"Though I admit that I did not expect to see her here this evening, in the company of an upperclassman." Radecki pulled Cassie's chair out for her, which she had expected, and put a hand on her lower back as if to guide her, which she did not. Nor did she miss the way Ireti Ọlatẹru's eyes narrowed at the motion.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Cassie said, falling back on the manners she'd been trained in since she was a young girl.

"I met Cadet First Class Ọlatẹru on the day I arrived, of course, and I know my cousin —" For a given definition of 'know,' Cassie admitted to herself.

"But I don't think I've had the honor of meeting the rest of you, yet."

"Kitree Red Crest," the Torean said, her eyes fixed on Cassie with the very same intensity that she imagined an owl, or a hawk, might look down at a vulnerable field mouse.

"Nalu," the immense Alu'kan rumbled. The silver tracery of his neural lace was clearly visible on his scalp, the metal sparkling beneath the lights of the officers' club.

"I hope you didn't invite my cousin purely for political advantage," Bhaskar drawled, once Radecki had taken his seat at Cassie's side. It wouldn't even be a question in my mind if I was here with Arc, Cassie realized. That was one upside of his declaration that it didn't matter to most out-worlders who the emperor was. What an odd thing to find comforting.

"No, not at all," Fletcher Radecki assured him, with an easy smile.

"Have you seen her in a simulation pod, yet? She's exceptional—and not just for a first year. I'd put her up against half the second-years, without a second thought. Honestly, I think she's wasted down there with the first-years."

"Of course," Ireti Ọlatẹru agreed, with the sweetest smile Cassie had ever seen.

"And, of course, she's so much more mature than the rest of her year. Wouldn't you agree, Fletcher?"

"I would," he said.

"Mmm-hmmm." Ọlatẹru rose from her seat.

"Princess, would you mind coming to the lady's room with me? I could use a hand fixing my makeup."" — if you like, of course," Cassie said, pushing her chair back and rising. In all honesty, it was a relief. She didn't at all like the way Kitree Red Crest looked at her, and she hadn't been entirely comfortable since the moment that Radecki had put his hand at the back of her cadet's tunic. The other woman said nothing until they were safe in the bathroom, with the door closed behind them.

"I hope you have your own makeup," Cassie said.

"Because I haven't brought any at all. Of course, that's not what we're here for, are we?"

"No." Ọlatẹru shook her head.

"No, I'm just giving you an excuse to get out of here." Her lip curled in an expression somewhere between anger and disgust.

"Radecki's got no business walking through that door with a girl almost three years younger than him on his arm, princess imperial or not," she muttered.

"Were you comfortable back there?" Cassie took a deep breath and decided to be honest.

"I was until he put his hand on my back," she said.

"Now?" She shook her head.

"I thought so." Ọlatẹru nodded.

"Get out of here. I'll make an excuse for you. Get back to people your own age." With no small amount of gratitude, Cassie ducked out of the bathroom and fled the officers' club.