I strode into ATT with a smile on my face, ready for the worst Commandant De'Lann could dish out, or so I thought. I expected something worse than the previous day's uneven match between Quick and Guy. Of course, she hit me with the one thing I didn't expect.

"Excellent work during the incident yesterday, Dabig. Not many Cadet Captains your age are willing to withdraw in a situation like that. It's even worse here in the Dragon, where 'not running away' is something of a tradition."

I froze in the middle of hooking into the simulator. "Thank you, sir."

She just stared at me, one eyebrow raised, as I finished hooking up the simulator's connections. Once I'd finished placing all the connections, I sat quietly.

"No questions?"

I had a million questions boiling within, but two surfaced and vied for primacy. I asked the less provocative one first. "How could I have done better?"

She smiled at me. She actually smiled. Her finger tapped her hovering slate, and in the next instant we stood on the Bay doors, the scene of the previous day frozen before us. De'Lann's distended belly lay smooth and flat; incongruous but not unbelievable; I suspected she looked marginally better here than in reality.

The sudden transition left me blinking. Middie and Junior classes using a simulator would invariably warn everyone before they started the sim. Equally invariably, someone would miss the prompt and wind up staring, dumbfounded. I'd never been that person, until today.

"When you recognized the Hullborer, you called it out. Excellent. However, you failed to recognize the signs of a recent jump quickly enough. Tiamat is an experienced ship, one of the oldest in the fleet, but she still needs a minimum of thirty seconds to recover from a jump. Expect her to be down longer if she jumps unprepared, like she did this time."

"Yes, sir. How long for a typical ship, sir?"

The commandant cocked her head at me. "There is no such thing as a 'typical ship', Cadet. Jump capable ships are crafted one at a time from asteroids of appropriate size. Ships of the same class follow near identical design specifications, but even that 'near identical' adds in variations in response time."

"What about 'sister ships', sir?"

She nodded her understanding of the sort-of slang term. "Ships crafted from the same asteroid, at the same time are closer than others, but unless they've been posted together their entire careers, they won't have the same responses or response times."

"Understood, sir. Is it impolite to ask a ship when you've been posted on her?"

She just stared at me, her head cocked, one eyebrow raised. Off to the side, Guy snickered. I glanced over, noting he and Quick had finally connected to the sim. My face heated as the commandant's mouth worked, words failing her. Before De'Lann could bring herself to answer my question, Tiamat interrupted.

"Don't mind the Captain. You didn't insult her. This time. Most Cadets don't worry about being polite to their ship, Dustie. See, I told you she was special."

The commandant rolled her eyes skyward. Deckward. Whatever. "Don't mind the Captain?"

"She knows what I mean, Captain. Besides, it was a question about ship etiquette, and who better to answer than a ship?"

"True, but there is that whole 'disrespect of authority' thing. I'd hate to have to punish one of these three because they picked up bad habits from you."

"Dustie, do you now or have you ever intended disrespect toward the Captain?"

My first question in a sim, and I knew the right answer. Go me. "No, ma'am!"

"Guy, same question?"

A visible shudder ran through Guy. "Hell no, ma'am. Mother would kill me."

"And I already know Tomas' answer. See, just a question of knowing your audience." The sheer smug innocence in Tiamat's voice had to be a put-on, and the commandant couldn't resist a small smile. She turned to us and the smile turned rueful.

"And that, Cadets, is why you don't argue with the school ship who saw your nappies changed."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Twice."

"Twice. Are you done, Tiamat?"

"I haven’t answered Dustie’s initial question yet. Much like their jump recovery times, individual ship AIs will vary with their reactions. It’s rather like asking someone for details regarding their individual augmentations. I’d recommend waiting until you have a good working relationship or you’re in a position where you need that information for your duties, like Navigator or Captain. That’s it, Captain. Sorry for interrupting, but it's so rare to see a Cadet interested in Human to AI etiquette."

"Understood. Carry on. Now, Cadet, as noted you wasted quite a bit of time trying to contact a ship you knew wouldn't be available. However, according to Doctor Andrews you did eventually remember telepaths would be awake and contacted them. This brought Guy to your location, which led to your second and third mistakes."

"Sir?"

"The second you caught. Most space worthy 'Sects are near blind in the visual spectrum but have excellent hearing in atmosphere. Audible communication should be minimized."

"Understood, sir."

"Good. Your third mistake; Cadet Delnot's armor can deal with a Hullborer as effectively as Cadet Quick's, but you pulled Delnot away from his hangar alcove." She gestured, and one of the alcove doors flashed. Guy and I stood there, me in my dodge ball sweats, him in his Dragon colored casual wear uniform. The heat in my skin deepened, and I hoped Tiamat didn't translate that to my sim avatar."

"Oh. I'm sorry, sir. I didn't realize we were standing on Cadet Delnot's armor."

"Part of your duties as Captain, Dabig. Know who is in what bay. You normally wouldn't have access to the Senior or Staff hangar assignments, but you should have known the Middie assignments."

"Yes, sir. I'll try to do better in the future."

"See that you do. In fact, Tiamat?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Cadet Dabig is to have access to all bay assignments. Dabig, you're to have those internalized by our next session. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." I also understood the meaning of the commandant's use of the word 'internalized'. By the next session, I would have contact with my essie. Once I had that, memorization would be as easy as a download from Tiamat, but there's a huge difference between knowledge granted by download and knowledge you've used. Sort of like a well-worn pair of boots fits better than a brand new one.

"Good. Now, given your lack of information about hangar assignments, your next move, to give up space to buy time, was a good one." Another gesture, and the entire scene sped forward until Quick's armor clamped the Hullborer's tongue shut and my hands grasped Harkness' grill. My palms itched at the memory of heat.

"Improvised weapons are fine, but you should be aware of the dangers presented by those weapons."

"Yes, sir."

"For example, with proper timing," she waved one hand, and the four of us stood on the floor of the bay. My image crouched, frozen in the act of clutching at my burned palms, the instinctive response injuring them further. "You could have done this."

Another gesture, and the runt Hornet buzzed into motion. It spotted the four of us and made a bee line for the closest of us, the commandant. She waved us down, and we crouched behind her, presenting a smaller target profile. It started its attack run, meandering shifting instantly to an arrow straight path toward the tallest target, the commandant. The moment before it hit, she crouched, wrapping one hand around each of the back legs of the stove. She stood smoothly, one shoulder slamming into the base of the grill as she stood.

The hood of the grill flew open, forming a shield too big for the Hornet to avoid. Equally deadly to the 'Sect, dozens of burning coals flew outward, turning the air around it into an oven. The already unstable concoction of acids in the Hornet's belly burst outward and exploded, the force of the blast splattering across the inside of the grill.

The commandant stood, dusting off her hands. "Now, that's just one example. I've signed you up for Harkness' class on improvised weapons, but that's for next year. For now, you need to focus on tactics."

"Yes, sir."

"Delnot, you failed to advise your commanding officer of several facts pertinent to the tactical situation." Another gesture, and the scene rolled backward to show the two of us, my face burning pink between his palms. "Instead, you seemed to be taking the opportunity to engage in inappropriate advances."

"Sorry, sir." Delnot's smooth face betrayed none of the smugness in his voice.

"I'm well aware of your family history, Delnot. I'd be lying if I told you no one in the Dragon finds combat exhilarating, but there is a time and a place for everything. The time for flirting with your commanding officer is 'never' and the place is 'detention'. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" No smugness marred his response this time.

De'Lann just shook her head and turned to Quick. "I've been aware of Cadet Delnot's abilities since he arrived, and Doctor Andrews tells me between her own connection at the time of jump and Cadet Dabig's abilities, she retained consciousness during the jump, but how did you avoid it?"

"I didn't, sir."

She simply raised an eyebrow. He shifted his shoulders and explained. "I thought I heard and felt a Hullborer shortly after Tiamat sent us to quarters. My hangar was only a few meters away, so I took both of our teams into the hangar, as it allowed for a quicker secure response. Once there, I entered my armor just in time for the jump."

"And you responded so quickly after the jump because...?"

"I recover very fast, sir."

"So you do. You react very fast as well, based on the results of the sim yesterday."

He just shrugged. She hadn't asked a question, so his lack of response wasn't technically insubordinate, but I could tell the line of questioning made him uncomfortable. I needed to look into that. Motivational stuff, Cadet Captain, yada, yada.

After a few moments of staring at Quick, she turned to me. "Well?"

"Working on it, sir."

"Good. See that you do. For now, let's replay yesterday's event, only this time let's do it right. Ready?"

I knew better than to freeze up now. Internally I lectured the butterflies in my stomach about the fact that I couldn't get burned in a sim, but externally all I could say was 'ready, sir!'

Guy and Quick echoed me, and the world dissolved.