I passed out in Creepy Stalker Guy's acceleration couch, and I woke up in the shower. Waking up in the shower is par for the course for me, but normally it's hyperbole, not literal truth. Also, given where I passed out, I was less than reassured by the warm water pounding against my back through the fabric of my uniform. The first thing I did was check my uniform out to make sure it was still in one piece. No rips, no missing fabric, nothing out of place. Either CSG dumped me in the shower without doing anything awful, or he decided to dress me again after. Whichever, he was nowhere to be seen. I shuddered from an awful mixture of cold water and barely suppressed horror.

In the course of checking for damage, I got an idea of how much acceleration gel still stuck to me. Luckily, most of it stuck to the outside of my uniform. I scrambled to my feet and spent a few moments hosing myself down. Showing up doused with water was far better than showing up covered in slime. I might even dry off a bit before we arrived. Of course, the water made my blouse nearly see-through, but with any luck the school was cool enough I could keep the jacket buttoned up.

After a quick rinse to get the gel off my blouse, I pulled my jacket back on and sealed it. A quick flick and both shoulders slumped backward, pulled even more than usual by the weight of the sodden socks. It wasn't right, but it was the best I could do without changing my uniform entirely. Not only didn't I have another dress uniform, but I also didn’t want to change with Creepy Stalker Guy hidden somewhere peeping at me.

I finished hosing off, set the shower to dry cycle, and leaned against the wall while heated air blew the water off me. Watching it drip down through the grating on the floor, a sudden realization struck me. Down was down. Gravity was back to normal, which meant we weren't doing emergency acceleration anymore.

"Shuttle, why did we do an emergency acceleration?"

"Armada scouts detected a large Insectoid force coalescing nearby. The admiral called for all non-combat parasite craft to dock expeditiously."

The response wasn't delivered in the cheerful idiot tones I'd gotten used to over the past few days. A real AI had taken control of the shuttle. On the plus side, that meant I was at my new school, where Creepy Stalker Guy would be taken care of by the proper authorities. On the downside, I was at my new school, where everyone would see me sopping wet and smelling of acceleration gel. I hated my life, but there was nothing else for it. I sighed, straightened my shoulders, and saluted the nearest camera pickup.

"Cadet Dustie Dabig, reporting to the Tiamat for duty."

"Welcome aboard, Cadet Dabig." Great. The shuttle was in a docking bay. I wouldn’t be a little wet. I would be sopping, straight out of the shower. "Normally I'd suggest you get cleaned up before leaving the shuttle, but we're still on alert. You're to report to the commandant's office as soon as possible."

When the mistress-after-God of a school ship calls a lowly Middie to her office, whether it's in her persona as captain or her persona as commandant, the lowly Middie doesn't ask why or which one. The Middie runs, asking directions on the way if she needs them. I ran. Halfway to the main passenger airlock, the voice of the Tiamat interrupted me.

"The airlock was damaged in the crash, Cadet. You'll need to head out via the launch bay."

I reversed course, the sole of my soaked boot nearly slipping despite the rough, easily gripped deck. I voiced my first concern while jumping headfirst down the tube to the launch bay.

"I don't have an EVA suit, or battle armor." That latter admission brought a rush of heat to my face. Most of my old classmates were already fitted, and a few of them already had their armor built. All of them expected to start training with it on the day of their sixteenth birthday, the day they officially became Seniors. I'd been so eager to fix my shape that it seemed a waste to go through fitting only to have everything refitted after I got rid of the worst of my clone father's meddling. Until that finished, I could make do with simulators.

"Middle Grade Cadet First Officer Quick is waiting with an EVA suit. He will also guide you to the Commandant's office."

I flipped out of the tube, righting myself as I did. I hadn't been down to the launch bay since the day I boarded. My personal effects, the flotsam and jetsam of fifteen odd years of life in the Outer Rim fleet, sat atop a plastic pallet, all forlorn in the middle of the empty bay.

Nearly empty bay, that is. Two sets of battle armor weren't enough to make a bay designed for fifty look full, but that only made each of them look more impressive. One of them was a training set, grey on white. A young man stood next to it checking the EVA suit gripped in the battle armor's left claw. I barely spared them a glance, however, because the other set of battle armor sucked my attention away instantly and completely.

It stood all the way at the far end of the bay, in the 'first out, last in' position, as far away from my cargo pallet as possible. Even at a distance, its bulk was obvious. It towered over the substantial form of the training armor, but even with its greater size, the armor still radiated speed and lethal grace. Worst of all, from the perspective of a Middie already courting disgrace, were the colors it sported. Glaring crimson chased with brilliant gold, the colors of the elite unit of the Imperial Marines, the First Dragon. I had only a creeping, horrific suspicion who that armor belonged to, but whoever owned it was either part of the First Dragon or would find out shortly why no one pretended to be one.

Unlike most units, the members of the First Dragon wouldn't enact vengeance themselves. They would just keep pretenders around until the next battle, then throw them in the front lines. It was an honor, of sorts. The First Dragon prided themselves on always being where the fire burned the hottest, and any pretenders got thrown into the fire. Once in a while one of them survived. At that point, they could look forward to all the security checks and training the rest of the Dragon took for granted.

But mostly they just died and got sent home.

I stood transfixed, staring at the beautiful, deadly armor at the far end of the bay, until the sound of a throat clearing startled me out of my reverie. I turned to face the young man I assumed was the Middie First, a little surprised that my clone father's memories hadn't sparked at the sight of the Dragon armor. I opened my mouth to report, and a thousand images washed over me. Grace, her hair a living beacon of red and gold. Her augments, green fire crackling across her skin, frying 'Sect and 'Mech and Vulg' alike, no matter which dared touch her. Her armor, viper fast, incalculably strong, and powered by the captured heart of a collapsed star, flashing scarlet and gold in the light of a dying 'Sect dreadnaught.

"Ow!"

I came back to myself at the Middie First's deep bass bark. I gripped his left hand in my right, squeezing across the palm in a crusher grip, holding it centimeters from my shoulder. By the look of him, he could have broken the hold without trying, but for some reason he just stared at me. With arms that thick and a chest that broad, I wouldn't have been surprised if he could break me in half at the waist. A quick glance at his armor, gaping open like a steamed clam, corrected my earlier mistake. He wasn't piloting training armor, he was piloting a suit of heavily reinforced combat armor with absolutely no decoration, just the gray on white of a unit assigned to a school ship. I looked back at him, only to find him staring pointedly at my fingers gripping his hand.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Sorry." I let go of him, pulling my hand behind my back. Trying to make amends, I nodded toward his armor. "That looks really durable."

He grinned, shaking his hand as he did so. I knew I hadn't really hurt him, but it was nice of him to act like it. "Thanks. I'm gonna major in Armoring when I make Senior." Despite his grin, he didn't meet my eye. Instead, he gestured to the EVA suit. "Commandant De'Lann is waiting."

I took First Officer Quick's hint and got myself into the suit. When my sopping wet dress uniform stuck in one of the sleeves, the First grabbed it and pulled it up over my arm. One limb at a time, he helped me force the EVA suit on over my recalcitrant uniform. Finally, he pulled the seal shut on the front. He tried to anyway. He stopped with one hand on each lapel, looking anywhere but my breasts. I sighed, grabbed the lapels away from him, and forced the seals shut. He moved to pull the helmet over my head, but I brushed him away and seated it myself.

The moment the helmet sealed, the world went silent save for my own breath and the quiet squish of sodden fabric. The First blushed and stepped away. He backed into his armor, slamming his arms into the forearm grips as he did. It closed over him, the armored plates, long curved claw-arms, and short, powerful legs giving it almost crab-like appearance.

I hadn't done much EVA work in the Rim Fleet. Out on the edge, we practiced for powered armor combat, but we mostly thought anyone who came all the way from another galaxy with a fight in mind would be riding in something that would take serious ship-based weapons to deal with. I'd have to get used to the way the rest of the Imperial Fleets relied on their Armor for just about everything. Without a set of armor of my own, I was stuck in an EVA suit like a little kid or a Civ.

The First finished his preflight and reached out with one big, claw-like hand to pick me up. I stiffened at being treated like a child, but the bay was already venting to vacuum. With no air in the room his externals wouldn't pick it up if I shouted at him, and he hadn't opened a com line. All I could do was fume quietly while he carried me to the bay door.

Once we left the bay, the view washed my anger clean away. Stars like a solid, glowing belt arched across the endless black of space. Beauty warred with claustrophobia somewhere in my gut, and despite all I'd been through today, beauty was winning. Before I could soak it all in, the First engaged his armor's drives, turning us about and pushing us away from the bay. After a minute or so, we spun about and there, like a huge buckle on the broad belt of the Milky Way, my new home glowed brilliant red and gold.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?"

I hadn't heard the click of the com line opening, and for a moment I was too overwhelmed by the stars and ship to reply. My claustrophobia was fighting a heroic delaying action in the pit of my stomach, but my heart raced, and my eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. I wanted nothing more than to stay right here ogling the splendor of the stars and my new home among them.

Yeah, EVA is like that.

"Sorry. Yeah, it is. Gorgeous, I mean."

"Thought you'd like the view. Commandant's waiting, though. In we go."

With no more warning than that, Tiamat grew from a red and gold disc to a curving wall of alloy that filled my vision. One of her bays yawned half open, my shuttle wedged in the entry, spun ninety degrees from the way it should have been. Before I had a chance to wonder why it hadn't lined itself up properly, we darted through the entry to another bay. Big enough to hold half a dozen troop shuttles, instead it held the Seniors' and older Middies' training armor. Row upon row of alloy hulls gleamed in the bay lights.

The lack of any classes out working on their armor confused me. "Tiamat is on standard Imperial time, isn't she?"

"Yep. Fifteen hundred twenty-six at the moment. You've got about four minutes to get to the commandant's office before you're in trouble for that, too." The way he bit off the last word made me think he regretted saying it.

"Too? What did I do? I just got here!"

However he'd slipped before, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. "The Middle Grade bay is close enough to her office to get you there in time, but we'll have to double time it the whole way."

Before I could ask him what was going on, he cut the connection. He had to concentrate on sliding his armor into a spot on the deck of the bay. Seeing it next to the rest of the Middie armor proved me right about it being customized. It was half again as wide as any of the others.

When he popped the seal on his armor, I took that as a sign the bay was pressurized and popped the seals on my suit. The helmet came off normally, and the chest seals sprang open the moment I released them, but my limbs were a tangle of mess dress and EVA suit.

"I'll need some help getting the EVA suit off. They're not made to go on over dress blacks."

The First turned around from where he was securing his armor, his confusion plain on his face. When he saw how tangled I was, his face went beet red. If I wasn't about to get reamed by the commandant, it would have been cute. Instead, it was just frustrating. I waggled my hands, and after a quick head shake, like he was arguing with himself, he grabbed the wrist of my suit, set his other hand against my chest, and pulled. My arm popped partway out of my uniform sleeve, but sleeve, arm and all came out of the EVA suit.

A repeat of the process got my other arm out of the suit, but that left my legs stuck. I tried yanking at them, but I couldn't get leverage. When the First tried, he wound up towing me along the floor. Finally I had to abandon dignity entirely and wrap my arms around one ankle of his armor while he pulled the suit off of me. Just when the recalcitrant suit let go of me, leaving me to flop gracelessly to the deck, a class of Junior Cadets trooped past. Their instructor barked at them, but their giggles still followed me as I jogged down the hall.

The commandant's summons made my feet itch for speed, but the First just trundled along, unconcerned. "Can't you go any faster?"

He turned his head, so familiar with the corridors of his home ship he could navigate them without looking. "Not all of us are built for speed, Gazelle."

By the way he huffed out the words, I could tell he really was doing his best. His best wasn't good enough, I had to get to the commandant's office faster. "Tiamat, may I get a guidelight to the commandant's office, please?"

The ship's voice whispered in my ear, focused acoustics keeping pace with my sprint easily. "Are you certain, Cadet Dabig?"

"Yes, please, ma'am." I didn't need to use the honorific, but I try to be polite when I can.

"Follow the red priority flash, Cadet Dabig."

A line of red flashing lights lit up along the ceiling, and I took off. Before I'd taken three strides, the First was behind me and losing ground. As I rounded the next turn, I heard him hollering something about waiting and the commandant, but I couldn't keep my new commanding officer waiting any longer. I bounced around corners, dove over the traffic in a crossing corridor, and finally slid to a stop in front of a door marked with a simple "De'Lann".

I took a moment to tuck in my sodden shirt, straighten my jacket, and stamp my feet into my boots, then announced myself. "Cadet Dabig reporting to the Commandant's office as reported, Tiamat."

"You're to go right in, Cadet Dabig." This was the first time I'd actually had a chance to listen to Tiamat's voice. Like most ships, she had an androgynous high tenor, but her accent was quite different from my old school ship. Where Glaucus had been crisp and precise, Tiamat was almost soft, the edges worn from her words by time. Her accent reminded me a little of Grace.

Before I could even begin to think about why that might be, the Commandant's door slid open, and I stepped into Tiamat's commanding officer's office. As I snapped to attention, I registered someone standing to my left, but my attention focused on the extremely pregnant woman behind the desk. Long honey blonde hair swept over one shoulder in a thick braid, framing a face made of planes and angles. Unlike most Imperial women, she was more handsome than beautiful, but it didn't detract from her commanding presence in the slightest. Her gaze swiveled to me, flickering to either side as if looking for someone. When she focused on my face, her eyes narrowed, her brow drew down, and her words were filled with cold venom.

"Grace Li. How the hell do you get the nerve to show your face back here again."

I stared at her, my mouth dropping open, one incongruous thought echoing through my head.

At least it's not my clone father getting me in trouble this time.