The shuttle’s interior disappointed Violet’s grand expectations. It wasn’t very large. Maybe enough room for thirty people including crew members. Seats lined the passenger cabin in rows with an aisle splitting right down the middle. The old ship’s main function was to ferry people and cargo back and forth from the bigger ships to the station, but despite her age, The Apricot had seen her fair share of distinguished passengers. Senators, corporate CEOs and board members, even a chancellor or two, and once the old girl had even ferried one of the galaxy’s most popular holostars who had shot a low-budget indie holo onboard the station. But looking around, there was no evidence of The Apricot’s former glories. Now, she was just a decently maintained, aging box that floated this way and that way and this way back again.

As Violet took her seat, she noticed the thick layer of grime that coated the floor, wall, and window seal. She resisted the urge to run her finger over it and inspect just how filthy the cabin truly was. The Apricot’s better days were definitely behind her. Violet just hoped the bucket of bolts still had enough hull integrity to get them to wherever they were going.

There was a loud hiss and the shuttle jolted from side to side as the repulsors engaged, lifting them away from the docking bay floor. She overheard a passenger behind her talking, “Getting out of the damn shuttle bay takes twice as long as the actual flight.”

Violet had no spacefaring experience to speak of, but by the time the shuttle jockeyed to the airlock and was cleared to enter, she was inclined to agree with the man. The shuttle bay operated just like a normal airlock, only on a much larger scale. The Apricot entered the airlock and the doors slowly lowered behind it. Another five-minute wait as the traffic controllers ran their final checks.

Finally, the outside doors began to lift, and the shuttle vibrated until the vacuum smoothed out the repulsor lift.

The shuttle accelerated out of the airlock into space.

Stars filled her view as far as she could see, along with asteroids lit up by the sun. She almost gasped audibly at the majestic scene before her. She’d seen the local views before—the asteroid field, the tiny pinpricks of light that were stars, and the slightly larger specks of light that were nearby planets—but never with the station available for scale. The station itself was far larger than Violet had imagined. Walking around on the inside, she’d never been able to appreciate the sprawling layout of the station.

Before she knew it, the shuttle was docking with a military-class cruiser. Instead of landing inside the ship, however, the cruiser extended a collapsible walkway that connected to the shuttle’s inner hatch.

The Colonel stood along with several others and prepared to disembark.

Violet stood, shouldered her bag, and followed the Colonel without a word, too nervous to ask one of the thousand questions on her mind. Especially after their last encounter. She didn’t expect them to be the best of friends, but she sure as shit hadn’t expected his disappointed-parent tone. He was the one who’d recruited her after all.

Maybe neither of us quite knew what to expect, she thought.

As she trekked along, she did her best to push the troubling thoughts from her mind (and if the colonel seemed to mind her following him, he didn’t say) as Violet’s timid footsteps pitter-pattered after the solid, confident heel strikes of his military-issued boots.

She’d followed him halfway to the bridge before he realized she was there. It was almost as if he'd forgotten all about her.

He turned abruptly, and she nearly ran into him.

“Miss Weaver. What are we going to do about you?” he asked.

Violet opened her mouth to respond, but in her nervousness, no words came out. And the more she thought about it, the more she believed the colonel wasn't actually after an answer…one of those rhetorical questions that authority figures seemed to love asking her.

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“My apologies, Miss Weaver,” the Colonel continued. “We have about a week's journey ahead of us, and I will have little time to entertain you, or otherwise keep you occupied. A proper orientation will take place—along with all of the official paperwork—when we reach the Academy.”

He pulled out his comm device and placed a call. “Porter, please meet me at the bridge. I have a new recruit that will need to be settled. Lodgings, a uniform, the works.” He ended the call and once again addressed Violet. “All right then, Miss Weaver, follow me.”

The colonel walked at a stiff pace, and Violet straggled after him like a puppy following its master, unsure where her next meal or bit of praise was going to come from. And despite her attempts to convince herself otherwise, there was a part of her that desperately wanted both. She couldn’t say exactly why, but she wanted—needed—to make a good impression; and despite having already eaten breakfast that morning, she was ravenous.

Whenever Violet was anxious, her first instinct was to shovel food into her face until she felt better. Not the healthiest of habits, she knew, but there would be time to sort out her personal issues later under the guidance of a qualified therapist. Right now, however, she would kill for a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit and a large caffeinated beverage to wash it down with.

Colonel Webster led her down dimly lit corridors. Her feet clanked over metal grated walkways. Beneath the grates she could see multi-colored cables bundled together, the inner veins of the ship, carrying power and information to wherever they were needed. Unlike the finished aesthetics of the civilian sectors on Tryptek Station, this was a military ship, designed for utility and performance. Little thought had been given to interior decoration or feng shui and the effects it might have on military personnel psychology. Or had it? She wondered.

Lesser ranked officers passed by as they made their way to the bridge with the junior officers saluting the colonel briefly until he passed without returning the gesture.

Violet frowned, again disappointed with the colonel’s seemingly douchey behavior. “Forgive my ignorance, sir, but aren’t you supposed to salute back?”

He studied her face briefly for any sign of disrespect or insubordinaton. “That’s an ancient practice that dates back to when we were still planet-locked. It’s been repealed since and is only required when a higher-ranking officer initiates the address. If I had to stop and salute every single person who passed by me during the course of the day, I would get very little done. They still like to portray it in the holovids, which is no doubt where you’re familiar with it from. Am I right?”

Before she could respond, they arrived at the entrance to the bridge. Guards were posted on either side of the entrance. They wore black body armor and bladed energy weapons on their sides. Their shoulders were adorned with a logo: a three-headed wolf.

Waiting for them, the colonel’s aide snapped to attention and saluted. A smirk crept to Violet’s face but was soon wiped off as the colonel returned the salute. She frowned. Had she misunderstood the colonel’s explanation? Or was he playing mind games with her? Or perhaps she just needed to keep her mind open and pay attention to the nuances around her? Either way, with every passing moment, she couldn’t help feeling that she was a long way from home, not just literally, but figuratively as well.

The aide’s attention remained fixed on the colonel as if Violet didn’t exist. It bothered her. Why, she couldn’t say. Perhaps as a young, attractive woman, she had grown accustomed to attaining the attention of the opposite sex whenever she wanted. And usually when she didn’t want, also.

“Are we under way?” the colonel asked.

The aide nodded politely, still standing at attention. “Yes, sir. The shuttle has detached, and we have rotated to begin our final calculations for Cerberus.”

“What’s our estimated travel time?”

“Just over a week, sir.”

The colonel grunted a nod of satisfaction with the aide’s pronouncement. “This is Violet Weaver. She’ll be entering the Academy as a new recruit, looking to join the team, if all goes well.”

That was news to Violet. As far as she knew, she was already on the team. Either she’d misinterpreted the colonel’s offer, or he’d left out that useful piece of information. She managed to keep a neutral expression at the revelation, however, and she found the colonel’s gaze studying her for her reaction.

So, this was how it was going to be in the intelligence world, was it? Test after test, stressor after stressor. Crack and fold or pass and move on to the next ordeal.

Violet allowed a thin smile to pass her lips as the colonel introduced the aide. “This is Porter Byrns. He will get you settled and see to anything you need onboard.”

With that, the colonel walked onto the bridge and took Violet’s last remaining contact from her prior life on Tryptek Station with him.