“He’s relentless,” Lee said simply. He’d risen to his feet, but stood staring down at the wrapped protein bar in his hand. “More funding would mean more shadow market busts.More cease and desists, and more monitoring the small energy startups… But there’s got to be more to it than that. That’s all old news.”
Kat took her time chewing a bite and forcing it down. “You don’t think the General expects this to happen again do you?”
“I doubt he finds another spaceship in the rubble…” Lee said. But she could see the spiraling affirmative in his eyes. It would be another mission. Another people. Another barrier. But the General wouldn’t hesitate to do something like this again and again, and again, so long as he believed they were a threat.
The whole idea of General Narron toting his ships and firepower about the galaxy left a bad taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with the protein bar in her hand. He had unlimited resources, and apparently an infinite supply of funding. He was unstoppable. A force to be reckoned with. And if Commander Blanche hadn’t figured it out yet, Kat wasn’t sure what either of them could do about it.
Lee seemed to come to a similar conclusion. Pocketing his protein bar and brushing his hands against his pant legs, he extended a hand for her. “We’ve got a squadron to form.” She could see the grim determination in the lines of his mouth, and the hesitations roving through his head. But she accepted his hand. Pushing her holoblock off of her lap, Kat stood up with Lee. She crammed the rest of the protein bar into her mouth while she followed him over to the dart lane.
“Nice to revert back to the old ways,” she said, still fighting against the uncertainty and the helplessness of their situation. She flicked the glowing case open at the base of the lane, skimming her finger over a set of plasma-darts.
She picked up a couple, feeling the warmth in the shaft as she tossed it between her hands. There was something comforting in feeling the familiar weights nestled against her fingertips.
Lee drew up a holoscreen target at the end of the lane, complete with a full listing of their Academy cadets’ names, years VL and higher.
They each took a few test throws, Lee’s lips quirking up in the corners, before they collected their darts, taking their places back at the start of the lane.
“Standard Academy mission. Low range, low risk,” Lee’s voice rumbled from beside her, the familiar timbre making her blood spark. “Shall we assemble the team?”
She couldn’t help her answering grin. They’d been through a lot up to this point. Even if she wasn’t entirely convinced they were on the right raider track, she couldn’t deny that getting outside of this ship for a bit would do them some good. They could use the fresh air—metaphorically speaking.
She lifted the first dart in her hand, again weighing it on her palm, before rolling it between her fingers.
“No peeking,” Lee reminded her.
Closing her eyes, she took her time, imagining the most mousy and meager VLs she could. She needed quiet and low-stress—someone naive enough to have evaded the ship’s petty politics and juiciest gossip thus far. Someone in need of a little corruption, a little Gamma-staining by their name. And letting karmic synergy do its thing, she tossed her first dart.
A mirroring thunk told her Lee had done the same. She vaguely wondered who Lee’s ideal cadet would be. Also a VL?
Immediately Levy’s face swam into her head, making her wish she hadn’t played the make-believe game.
She wasn’t jealous of Levy anymore, not in that way. She knew the “relationship” she’d had with Lee had ultimately ended platonically. But the girl’s innocence was something Kat would never have going for her. No, Kat had, for better or worse, always viewed the galaxy from very open eyes.
She mindlessly threw her second dart. And it wasn’t until Lee had also thunked his to the far wall that she opened her eyes.
Side-by-side, they wordlessly approached the wall.
Ultra.
Ultra.
X.
Ultra—
Kat started laughing; she couldn’t stop.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Lee groaned.
“It seems you’re in luck,” Kat chortled, tracing the last ultra cadet’s name to his more-recent raid status. “Your boy, Dax, here, hasn’t been out since he accompanied us off to good ole’ Argos—the first time. You can tell him the good news over dinner,” she cooed, turning positively gleeful at the dark look he shot her.
They could of course simply re-cast their darts, but to re-cast would be cheating. Which would also take away the fun and the challenge. And no one could ever accuse Lee of such crimes.
Swiping the rest of the darts from the back wall, they reset the target, dumping their plasma-dipped selectors on their way out.
After grabbing a quick dinner, they bypassed the Hideaway in favor of continuing their raid prep in Lee’s dorm.
Instead of sitting at his desk, Lee took up a spot on his bed, slumping back against the wall by his window in a most un-Lee-like position.
