Of course, nothing in my life could be quite that simple.

"I still say we ought to shoot for it and pick sides." Al might be big, but he still thought pure Junior. He'd said the same thing five times since I started counting. That's what I'd been doing; listening and counting. The divide here between Noob and Retread was just as big as anything I'd known on Glaucus, but there were differences. The Noobs were just as frustrated with the lack of promotion opportunities, but the Retreads actually seemed... envious. I chalked it up to careful management by Tiamat and focused on the dynamic in this little group.

"If anyone's picking sides, it ought to be the Captain and I."

Quick's suggestion met with immediate derision from Back. "We're not on the Middie levels, Quick. She's just Dabig here."

A ball launched by one of the Seniors ploinked off the wall in the middle of our group, rocketing back up with such force it penetrated the force plane a second time. I just shook my head and kept fiddling with my cable spool. I'd read up on them, practiced firing and retracting in zero g, but I'd never used one in a live game. The five Retreads each had a cable spool, but none of them had so much as glanced at them after picking them up. Gar tested his once, but mostly did the same. David was literally wrapped up in his; he'd attached the short range grav-magnet 'sticky' end to a wall, extended it as far as he could, attached it to his belt and hit maximum retract. He was currently trying to untangle the mess while we walked up the bay walls to the final arena.

This far up freefall beckoned to me. A quick hop and I would be airborne, sailing through the arena space to the far side of the bay. My love of dodge ball came from the freedom of weightlessness as much as anything else. I could get no closer to flying until I was a Senior, got my clone father's awful mods taken away, and got my own armor.

"I could knock a set together for you, Captain."

Quick's rumble knocked me from my woolgathering. "Sorry, First. Just thinking out loud. No need for you to put yourself out on my account."

The Smirk reared its ugly head. "Actually, I need something to work on. Chief Armorer Skotchko told me mine is 'as done as it's ever going to get' and refuses to give me any more credit for 'gilding a lily'."

"And you thought of me? Thanks!" I tried to keep the snark out of my voice, but the Retread's insistence on calling me 'Dabig' rather than 'Captain' annoyed me, even moreso because Quick wouldn't call me anything else.

If I upset him, he hid it well. "You seemed pretty miffed coming over from the shuttle. I drew up some preliminary plans."

I quirked an eyebrow at him, something I'd picked up from Grace's memories. "How preliminary?"

"I could start work first thing," he muttered.

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My eyebrow arched even higher. There were times my Clone-father's tinkering came in handy. "So, all you need are my measurements?"

Red crept up from his collar, washed over his entire face until I was sure his scalp must be crimson. He muttered something under his breath.

"What was that, First?"

"I've already got them."

I stopped, planted my hips on my waist, and spoke. "Tiamat, did you give Cadet Quick my measurements?"

"No, Dustie. I simply confirmed the numbers he already had."

Visions of Guy stalking me in my own shuttle danced in the back of my head. He and I still hadn't hashed that out. "Where did you get my measurements, Quick?"

He stopped another ten feet up the wall, turned, and looked me square in the eye. "I have excellent kinesthetic and visual acuity, along with perfect recall."

"Non-sequitur much, First?" His answer confused me, but I refused to show it. His reply didn't help matters.

"I did the math." With that, he turned and started stomping up the wall toward the last arena.

Tiamat interrupted my terribly important task of glaring at Quick's retreating back. "Have you chosen up sides yet, Dustie?"

"Not yet, why?"

"The Senior versus Middie matchup teams are arriving. If you haven't chosen sides by the time they all arrive, I'll need to give them the arena."

Great. If I didn't get a game now, I would have to wait around for another pick-up game. If one even started after this, I had no idea if there would be space for me. Maybe I could challenge the entire Junior class?

Shaking my head at my own stubbornness, I broke into a gliding sprint up the wall. I didn't dare leap here, keeping low enough to stay within the wall's artificial gravity forced me down. Given my current course I'd smash into the main bay doors if I tried anything that silly. Within a half dozen long strides, I slowed down next to Denny, obviously the brains of the Retread bunch.

"Okay, we'll do it your way."

"Hey!" Al's protest was sharp and immediate. "Why do you get to decide for us?"

I strode to within inches of him and stared down into his eyes. He glanced away after a moment, then returned his gaze to a point just below my nose. "Because I'm senior, and Tiamat will give our slot away if we don't quit arguing."

Quick sighed, and I rounded him before he could speak. "Do you have a problem being on my team?"

He flushed again, but this time from anger. "No, Sir. Glad to be on your side, Sir!"

I heaved a sigh of my own, which immediately set most of the young men to coughing, staring at the wall, or turning away from the group.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Quick."

He frowned at me, then turned away still shaking his head. I stepped after him, laying one hand on his huge bicep. He glanced back.

"First, I would be honored if you'd make my armor. If it's half as nice as yours, it will be better than anything I could do."

Young men make no sense. I'd just taken away his free time for at least a month, but the idiot was grinning at me.

"Thanks, Sir. I won't let you down. Let's go play some ball."

"I still say we should flip for it!" Al needed to let go of that whine, or someone was going to make him let go of it. Before I could say anything, Quick intervened.

"Okay. Card, pick four."

Denny's choice of careers might be lacking, but her wits weren't. "Williams, Back, Mull, and Rides."

"Dabig, pick four."

His pedantry annoyed me, but I couldn't help grinning. After months of travel and over a week of paperwork, the arena called to me.

"Frost, Ross, Carver..." I let the silence draw out until Quick blinked.

"Really? After twisting my arm to get me up here?"

I smiled at him, and his frown melted. "Just pulling your leg. Quick."

"That's not fair! What happened to flipping for it?"

Quick turned a glare on Al. Before the younger boy could turn away, he poked him in the chest with one thick finger. "Tell you what. If you're all that broken up about it, I'll flip you. How's that work for you?"