The friction of unfamiliar suede against my skin pulled me slowly from my nightmare. My eyes slid open millimeter by millimeter. By the time my lashes parted, the room lights came on, just bright enough to see the controls. The ship watched everyone aboard, all the time. I could barely remember living on a world so big, so populated, that even an AI couldn't monitor all of it all the time.

No I couldn't!

I remembered dying. I recalled with absolute clarity the sensation of skin vaporizing in the maelstrom aboard the Mech' Carrier. As I relived my death in memory, other memories crowded into my head. Decapitation. Dismemberment. Vaporization. Through it all, a tiny pink light flashed in the corner of my vision, counterpoint to the blue one opposite. Endless varieties of each, the last being the only one final enough to require rebirth.

Rebirth. I'd died and been reincarnated.

No, I hadn't!

I floundered, adrift, the lone blue light an accusation in the corner of my vision. It flickered, as if on the edge of going out.

I'd been reincarnated...

"Dustie, wake up. you have to be in ATT in thirty minutes."

Tiamat's announcement hit me like a splash of cold water. I shot out of bed, one hand raising the lights to full, the other yanking open my underwear drawer, all the while rattling off my newfound daily affirmation.

"My name is Dustie Dabig. My mother was Grace Li, may she burn in Hell forever for leaving me to face this alone. My father was Dustin Dabig, who died before I was born. I am not a coward, I am excellent..."

"And you'll be late if you don't hurry."

"You could have woken me sooner!"

"You didn't specify a wake-up time, and you seemed to be stirring just before I woke you anyhow."

Her calm, rational voice did nothing to sooth me. My closet slid open, the carousel already in motion. Much like the nightwear section, my day wear uniforms crowded in with a variety of new ones. Marine blacks, Support grays, and Navy whites, all arranged in a grayscale rainbow.

"Why do I have Support and Navy uniforms?"

"Even though it's your birthday, technically you're still a Middie. Up until promotion you could still change your declared service."

That reminded me of the mystery I'd tabled yesterday. "I'm sixteen now, so why is my essie refusing contact?"

"It is? Just a moment." The faintest suggestion of voices tickled the back of my mind. While Tiamat sought out the answer to my dilemma, I grabbed up the new Marine casual Blacks, pulled a towel and my toiletries from their drawer and headed out for the showers. This time of day saw most Middies in class, so I had no need to dodge through a rushing crowd. Instead, I tried for the way I'd seen Commandant De'Lann move; a calm, determined stride which nonetheless ate up distance.

I stepped into the showers to find my physical education class in the middle of cleaning off the sweat of the day's exertions. The first to notice me called out 'Good Afternoon, Cadet Captain!' at which the rest all turned and snapped off a quick salute. I returned it, again attempting the commandant's casual yet proper response.

Instead of dropping their salutes and getting back to cleaning up, most of the class stared, dumbfounded, as I walked through the room to an open clothes rack. I'd never seen a cadet injured on Glaucus, and I assumed the cadets’ shock came from seeing me alive and whole again after nearly having my leg burned off. Then again, I hadn't showered with the entire class before; my early morning workouts had me through the showers before anyone else woke up. Jodi Mull spotted me and poked Wendy Back, who turned, took one look at me, and dropped her comb.

I had no time to worry about staring classmates. I had to get ready for class. I dropped my underclothes into the bin midway up the rack, hung my new uniform from the hook, and draped my towel over the uniform. Some Cadets wrapped a towel around themselves while walking to the shower stall, but I couldn't stand drying off with a damp towel. While my father's tinkering made me intensely body conscious, it left me with very little to be embarrassed over. I reached for the bottom of my pajama shirt...

My fingers brushed across faux leather. Heat washed across my cheeks when I remembered what I'd worn to sleep. My hesitation lasted only a moment; I reached around and loosened the buckles holding the thing in place, stripped it off and tossed it in the nearest laundry chute. I was gratified to see most of the stares tracking to the chute rather than following me, but I still couldn't force myself to meet anyone's eyes.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

A few minutes later, as I rinsed the last soap from my hair, Wendi sidled up to stand in the shower nearest mine.

"Excuse me, Cadet Captain?"

I realized then how long it had been since someone called me 'Dustie'. I missed it, but I didn't know anyone well enough to allow them that much familiarity, at least while we stood in the Middie decks.

"Yes, Beck?"

"How did you get that... that outfit, sir?"

"It's a birthday present from Tiamat."

"Oh." She turned away and started scrubbing. She'd been rinsing off when I arrived. I adjusted the shower nozzle to hit my lower back, cranked up the heat, and waited. "You're leaving?"

I smiled to keep the festering anger about my delayed promotion from my face. "No. I'll be around for a while yet. Commandant De'Lann thinks I need more time in ATT."

"I've got another three years until I can get an outfit like that."

"It's more comfortable than it looks. I was really surprised how much support it offers." I shrugged, then shook my head. "All that aside, I don't think I'm going to wear it again."

"Oh, no! You should! It looks good on you..." She petered off. Out of the corner of my eye I caught her face going a little crimson in the heat of the shower. "I guess it's stupid for me to wish I could have an outfit like that. It's not like I could fill it out."

The setting might be a little unusual, but her self-deprecating comment put her squarely into the category of 'needs pep talk', and as Cadet Captain motivation was a big part of my job description. "You've got three years, Back. I'm sure you'll fill it out fine."

She looked over at me, brow furrowed. "No, I won't. It's the stupid body mod. We're all 'athletic' and 'powerful'. I wish I'd never talked Jodi into it, trendy or not. I... I've seen her staring at the Seniors whenever we're up in the Bay." She paused, shoving her hair under the running water. After a few seconds she surfaced, shaking drops of water everywhere. "The seniors with curves."

"Just a moment." I shoved my head under the pounding stream of hot water to buy myself a little time to think. With everything messed up in my own head, I often forgot how many of my classmates weren't anywhere near the age they looked. Back wasn't thirteen; nearly twelve decades of experience lived behind those amethyst eyes. She and Mull weren't teenagers caught in the first blush of infatuation; they'd been a couple for sixteen years before they both died in action against the Vulg'.

I pulled my head out from beneath the spigot but didn't shake; I had enough hair to make a huge mess if I did. Instead, I pulled it into a ball, turned to face the shower head, and then squeezed most of the water out of my hair before letting it drop to lie down my back. I leaned one elbow on the top of the shower stall wall and stared over Back's head.

"Is this something I should be hearing, Back?" Regs were clear; if her personal life didn't interfere with her duties and she didn't ask for advice, I should leave it alone.

"I... Well, I guess... Sure. I mean, it's not like you're chasing her." Again, she followed her statement with a muttered, "The reverse might not be true though."

I shook my head. "Back, I can tell you for sure and certain, as long as I'm your Captain I won't be doing anything like that with either of you. Any of you, really."

She sighed, crossed her arms atop the shower stall wall, and rested her head on them. "I know that. I just... she and I have been together as long as I can remember. I don't know what I'd do without her."

I reached out and put one hand on her shoulder. "You'd soldier on. It's what we do. But..."

"But what?" She lifted her head, not quite enough to look at me.

"Have you talked to her about this?"

Now she looked down again, only this time she wasn't resting her head on her arms; she stared at the floor, refusing to meet my gaze. "No."

"Want some advice?"

A shy smile crept across her lips. "Yeah. Sure. Why not. Can't hurt."

I smiled back. "Okay then. Here goes. Talk with her. Maybe she regrets the mods as much as you do." I hesitated. "Do you like the way she looks?"

Now she blushed as badly as I ever did. "Yeah."

"So, talk to her. Tell her you've noticed her looking. Is she looking at girls who look the way you used to?"

Back looked up at the ceiling, oblivious to the water cascading off the side of her head. "Y'know, she kind of is."

"Maybe she doesn't like athletic any more than you like being athletic. If you don't like the mods, and she doesn't like them, talk to your essie about changing them. I'm going to as soon as I can."

Her head shot down, her jaw dropping open, and she gabbled for a moment as water shot up her nose and into her eyes. "Wha... why... You're going to mess with that?"

This time I sighed. "I didn't ask to look like this, you know."

She blinked. "You mean your parents set you up with... all that?"

"Something like that." The woman from last night's dream danced through my mind's eye for a moment. Blond hair and her outfit hid it from me before, but I looked remarkably like her from the neck down. "It's something like a family tradition. Y'know, mom's hair, grandmom's legs, Aunt Matilda's pancreas."

"You know very well you don't have an Aunt Matilda," Tiamat chimed in, "and if you stand around gossiping all day, you'll be late for class."

"Our mistress after god summons me. Let me know how things work out?"

"Will do, Captain. And thanks."

I nodded, turned, and started back to my clothes rack. Tiamat whispered in my ear while I toweled off.

"Would you like the good news, or the bad news?"

"The bad news, always."

"Well, aren't you the pessimist. Essies are always sticklers for protocol, but yours is particularly bad. You're now officially fifteen years, three hundred sixty-four days, sixteen hours, eight minutes and... thirty seconds old."

My hands kept moving on automatic, toweling me off, brushing my hair, and pulling on my uniform while I chewed that over. "You're telling me I've got to wait another eight hours."

"Seven hours and fifty minutes now, actually."

"Let me guess. The good news is that my essie will be contacting me in seven hours and fifty minutes?"

"Assuming you're not asleep, unconscious, or dead. Normally I'd take continued respiration as a given, but you seem set on demolishing yourself along with my safety record."

I grinned as I pulled on my new boots. They slid on smoothly, my heels coming to rest perfectly cupped in the heel of the shoe. I stamped each once and set off for ATT with a smile on my face.

I still wish I'd had a chance to thank her for making me smile.