A loud siren brought everybody to cover their ears.

"Cease all hostilities immediately and lay down your weapons. Do not resist, I repeat, do not resist," a synthetic message played on a loop. Altair slowly started returning to his senses, noticing the throbbing pain in his hand, and the blood droplets now staining his shoe. The scene around him was like from a small warzone. Sattan was stretched on the floor, apparently unconscious, the boy who had been nearly KO'd by the chair had again collapsed without his friend's shoulder there to support him and based on the noises he was making Kamar was clearly having a bad time.

As he heard rapid footsteps approaching from behind, Alt dropped the shard he was holding and put his hands on the back of his head. Soon, he was forced down on his knees, with a pair of slick handcuffs immobilizing his movements, with a brute voice telling him to freeze even though he was not resisting. He barely registered one of the security team members radioing the paramedics for help. The surrealness of the moment didn't stop one of his deepest fears from re-surfacing.

Am I going to lose my scholarship for this? Before the school year even starts?

Kamar and the remaining assailants who were still conscious joined him in the restrained position and were throwing death threats using language that would make sailors blush until the lead of the security team pressed a button on a remote control to discharge a low voltage blast from the handcuffs, that activated indiscriminately in all units in the area. Despite receiving one himself, Altair couldn't hide a smirk from creeping on his face. If he was going down, at least he was taking these assholes with him. Sure, Kamar's father was a newly titled noble, but his heir was literally at the bottom of the totem pole hierarchy-wise compared to noble dynasties established centuries ago. The boy's lackeys were even worse off, being only a part of the wealthy bourgeois class, but for practical purposes in front of Levantian law not that much different from an average commoner like Altair.

Once the paramedics arrived and assessed the two boys in need of the most urgent attention, they were placed on a stretcher and carried outside to a mini shuttle, to be then transported to the nearby infirmary. Altair and the remaining three attackers were instead escorted by foot by the security team to the same destination. Luckily the infirmary wasn't located too far away from the classroom building they had been in, and the campus was mostly deserted by now, but they still had to deal with passers-by pointing fingers at them and whispering behind their backs.

I feel like an actual criminal... I wonder what Ronel would think if she saw me now? he mused, thinking about his poorly hidden crush. I can almost pass for one of those bad boys she likes so much..., he tried to distract himself from the upcoming disciplinary proceedings by entertaining ridiculous thoughts, while walking robotically with his head low, to not give the overzealous security guards any reason to zap him.

At the entrance to the infirmary building, to the endless relief of the detainees, their convoy split into two groups, each heading for a different wing. I guess they don't want to risk another fight breaking out. If we damage this expensive equipment, even their deep pockets would bleed, he thought, while checking out the various alien-looking devices visible through the glass doors on the sides of the corridor they were walking through. He only had a faint idea of their function, but together with the imposing size of this medical complex it all seemed a bit excessive for an Academy of roughly seven-hundred students.

After reaching out one of the examination rooms and being placed on a medical bed Altair had his handcuffs replaced with a set of straps tying him down to the bed frame. Time passed in awkward silence, with Altair taking a particular interest in counting the ceiling tiles to avoid looking at the last guard still with him. Finally, a short-haired woman in her mid-forties wearing a white lab coat silently walked in, gliding like a ghost. Her steady steps and upright posture betrayed a military background. Upon closer inspection, Altair got a better look at the scar that stretched in a circular line from her right ear all the way to her chin, only interrupted by her chapped lips. That was unusual, as technology had long ago advanced far enough to get rid of most cosmetic defects like that and this woman, being a doctor, most certainly had the means to take care of it.

"You again...," she said, tilting her head slightly with a frown.

Altair just shrugged, trying his best attempt at a disarming smile, while reading the name "Dr. Raisa" from her nametag. They had met before in passing when he previously landed in the infirmary, but at that time his treatment was handled by an assistant, and they had just exchanged a brief greeting.

"Is this really necessary?" the older woman asked the security guard who had placed the restraints.

"You know it's protocol ma'am. This filthy fringer was responsible for a Class III incident involving sharp weapons."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Altair snappily denied it, insulted but not surprised by the xenophobic slur, often used to describe the habitants of the occupied provinces from the Levantian Kingdom. He started claiming that he was only stepping in to protect his friend, only to be surprised when the doctor's interrupted his speech.

"Uncuff him. I can't do my job properly otherwise," she said coldly.

"But ma'am...," the guard protested.

"Do you really think he is a threat... to me?" she emphasized the last part, cutting him short.

"Well no... sorry ma'am," he complied and quickly excused himself, startled for a reason that Altair could not figure out. It was amusing seeing a grown man that just minutes ago was on a power trip suddenly run away with his tail between his legs after being confronted by a woman half his size.

"Alright then, let's see what we've got here," she got closer, and after setting up the illumination system to focus on teen boy's slowly coagulating hand, started to inspect and disinfect it. The wound ran deep and hurt like hell, but Altair managed to keep his mouth shut while she pressed on it. Despite having a good feeling about this doctor, he was thoroughly suspicious of everybody at this school, based on previous experience and didn't want to show anything more of the real him than what was absolutely necessary.

"That was quite foolish of you," she said. "Were you actually planning to stab them with a ceramic shard? There are some things you can't take back, you know."

"Huh? No, I wasn't... wait, how did you know?" he asked incredulously. "I just didn't...," Altair was at a loss for words. Had she been watching the fight, or did the chair kid manage to rat him out already? "I didn't know what else to do," he concluded while grinding his teeth, his anger flaring.

"Doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened after seeing the involved parties. The only thing more dangerous than an old noble on a power trip is a new noble or nouveau riche who just got his first taste of authority. Students from the border provinces, who don't have any backing or influence are usually the first ones to get hurt. Sometimes they fight back... and that's when things can turn real ugly."

"Hold on, you believe me?" Alt was surprised by her apparently taking his side and by daring to say such controversial things out loud, when a bunch of microscopic surveillance devices could be recording them right now. Since childhood, he heard nightmarish tales from his countrymen that led to ingrained paranoia about the secret police working behind the scenes to suppress any dissent in the Kingdom.

"Let's just say I know things aren't always all black and white," she said, as she placed his palm on a pad which extended to enclose his entire hand with a warm liquid. The mysterious device started vibrating lightly, and Altair felt his pain slowly beginning to alleviate, giving way to a tingly, pleasant feeling. "Nanobots," she answered the question evident by the surprised look in his eyes. "But if you pull a stunt like that again during the actual school year, you will be expelled, no questions asked."

"Wait, you mean, I am not going to be kicked out now?" he asked, hopeful the worst would not come to pass. He couldn't bear imagining the disappointment of his parents if he returned home on such a sour note. Alt was sure that they would not blame him after learning that he was standing up for a friend but seeing them put so much effort for him over the years to give him a better shot in life only for it all to be completely in vain would be simply heartbreaking.

"That is for the headmaster to decide. But my bet is on a year or two of community service instead. Somebody has got to pay for that vase, you know," she said. Altair could have sworn he saw a faint smile fleeting her face. He didn't pursue the matter further, but hoped she was joking about the length of the punishment.

"Uhh… and how is Sattan doing?" he finally inquired. The guilt of not stepping in right away to stop the attack was still eating away at him.

"You should really worry more about yourself than others now", she admonished him. "He will be fine after a day or two – we just can't have him going back home looking like that."

A loud beep sounded, indicating the procedure was over. The machine disengaged, allowing Altair to pull out his hand and inspect it. There were tiny stitches that one would almost need a magnifying glass to notice holding the cut together, but from afar, the hand looked as good as new. He didn't want to risk testing it out just yet. The doctor bandaged his hand and instructed him to take it easy for a couple of days.

"Can I trust you to make it to the headmaster's office by yourself, without the need for these?” she asked, pointing at the pair of handcuffs dropped by the security guard who had left in a rush. "It's the castle-like building with the tallest tower on this side of campus. You can't miss it once you exit this building and go towards the North Gate".

"Uh... yes, I have been there before," Altair conceded, without going into detail about his previous escapades. During a previous visit after an altercation caused minor material damage, he had spent nearly an hour getting lectured by the headmaster's assistant. "I promise there will be no trouble from me."

"You should make promises you can actually keep. I better not see you here again any time soon, you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am," Altair nodded, giving a slight bow. He stepped up to gather his belongings while she appeared to be filling a report on a nearby computer.

As he headed towards the exit, she called him for the last time, her eyes still on the screen.

"So, what's the deal with your leg?"

"Oh, this...," Altair couldn't help but get self-conscious whenever the topic of his limping was brought up. "My parents say I got into an accident when I was a child... the doctors had me do physiotherapy, but I never really fully recovered for some reason."

"Hmm," Dr. Raisa looked at him pensively. "We'll take a look at it next time." She threw the boy a look of pity, almost as if she was imagining that he would be a frequently returning patient.