boarding schools. The right summer vacations at the same wealthy enclaves and terra–formed moons. She could still see their sneers as they welcomed her, the poor girl who had risen so far above her station. So far.
She was never accepted. Never one of them . She remembered her last commanding officer explaining that she was good enough to promote, but lacked the interest of powerful players to advance her career. She was dead–ended. It was enough to drive her to resign and strike out into deep space, where people like that didn’t control her destiny.
And now, sitting right next to her, looking down his nose at her, another one of them . Another educated elite prick, from the Concord Academy on Bryce, no less, who thought she was just a well–trained bulldog bitch.
Captain Sokolov was the only superior who had ever looked at her as a person. He had rescued her from falling into the pit itself when she lost her way, given her a place again, a purpose, a job. He was the Captain.
So Djamila seethed. She considered just smashing Aritza into the bulkhead, like last time. It would be rewarding to pound on him.
But wouldn’t that lend credence to his belief that she was just another dumb gun bunny ? Wouldn’t that prove them right about her? Excellent for kicking in doors, but not someone you invite to a cocktail party? A well–trained bulldog bitch?
She wouldn’t let them win.
Her jaw hurt from grinding her teeth.
Djamila blinked, surprised at the sudden swell of emotions that flowed over her. Normally, she was calmness itself. This runt just somehow pushed all her buttons.
She would have to work on that. And prove them, him , wrong.
She smiled hard. Very wrong.
Ξ
The ride down was smoother than Javier had ever experienced in any assault shuttle. It was more like riding in a VIP transport with an Admiral.
He really liked this pilot.
And the crazy ogre lady had left him alone for the whole trip.
He had been half–expecting more grief from her. Lord knew, he was dancing right up on the edge of rude. It was like poking a sleeping bear, or a missing tooth. Irresistible.
And she had a short fuse. But those military types, all structure and order and pattern, really grated on him. He just couldn’t resist. Chickens were still better company.
More than once, Javier had opened his eyes to glance over at the Dragoon, wondering if she had fallen asleep. But the eyes had been open, just lost deep in thought. Probably planning firing lanes and organizing watch shifts. Something very military.
Outside, the whistle of air over the hull was augmented by a soft thump as the wings began to deploy, softly biting into the thickening air. Javier yawned and stretched. He really liked this pilot.
Ξ
Lemuel looked up in mild surprise at the sound of thunder. The day had dawned clear and cool, with a nice autumn breeze. There should be no rain.
A glint of light in the northern sky. Movement. It took his brain several more seconds to process the image as the giant, gray–black bird resolved itself into an aircraft approaching, orbiting twice, and then flying off to the east to the grassy plain where the herdbeasts calved in the spring.
It had been years since technology.
A stray though flitted across his mind. Others were coming. Strangers come to violate his virgin wilderness. He would have to welcome them properly. He walked a few steps down the hill to where Anya, Mohr, and Thomas were buried. They had not lasted long enough to see this day.
Lemuel glanced back at the wreckage he had called home for so long, smiled, and strode down the path to the river.
Welcome them properly .
Ξ
Javier watched Sykora move with an economy of grace. For a woman who was all knees and elbows and shoulders, there was not a wasted motion or a foot put wrong. He still didn’t like her, but he could respect pure professionalism when it bit him on the ass.
As long as she didn’t actually bite him on the ass.
He smiled to himself and