News of the shower incident had spread like wildfire overnight, and when she awoke, Violet found a note from Trace under her door, telling her to meet her in the commons. In the three days leading up to the shower ambush, Trace and Violet had not been idle. Between planning the details and the late nights implementing them, Violet was exhausted–triumphant, but exhausted. She sleep-walked through pulling her clothes on, checked herself in the mirror, and decided to throw her hair back in a ponytail upon seeing the state of her mane.
The Academy’s planners had constructed the common area to resemble a park-like setting, complete with a tall, domed ceiling that mimicked sunlight, and various greeneries, such as grass, flowered bushes, and trees. It was a bustling hub of activity and camaraderie where trainees gathered in their free time and formed common bonds over their shared journey enrolled in the Galactic Republic Military Intelligence Academy. Various chairs, benches, and lounge areas dotted the landscape, attempting to blend the park aesthetic with modern comforts.
Violet spotted Trace at the far end of the commons on a bench by herself. As she made her way over, she noticed the pointed stares and halted conversations from the other groups of trainees who shared the space. She even thought she heard her name mentioned a few times along with Marten’s. A sense of dread settled over her as she sat down beside her friend. Her knees instantly started bobbing up and down.
Trace waited for Violet to look up at her before speaking.
“Are you freaking out? Because it looks like you’re kinda freaking out.” Trace took Violet’s hands in hers and shook them gently.
“What if they figure it out?” Violet’s worry punctuated her words as her eyes darted around the park to ensure no unwanted ears were listening.
Trace leaned back in her seat as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “We were careful. No one saw us. We just need to stay composed, and we’ll be fine.”
Violet shook her head. “But what about the scrub chemicals? They could be traced back by–”
“No chance… We stripped all the IDs from the canisters and then swapped them out with fresh tanks, just like you said you used to do back on your home station.”
Violet knew that. She knew they’d taken every precaution, and wiped any evidence they could think of that might indicate their involvement. But despite all that, Violet still had a bad feeling about the whole thing.
Not about what happened to Marten and his goonies… No, they’d gotten exactly what they deserved. Besides, aside from their belly-aching, their injuries would heal without any lasting damage in a matter of days.
No, there was something else that gave Violet a bad feeling. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“I might have missed something,” Violet pointed out. “The canisters weren’t exactly the same as the TekAir ones we use back home…”
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Several female cadets walked past them, giggling and gossiping amongst themselves. The proximity made Trace hold back her retort.
A short, dark-haired trainee turned back over her shoulder and saw Violet sitting under the fake shade tree. Violet recognized her from one of her classes but blanked on her name as the girl left the group and shyly approached Violet and Trace.
She began speaking, almost mumbling her words before gaining some traction and projecting to a normal conversational level. “I’m sure you’ve already heard the word going around… but just in case you haven’t… if it were me, I’d want to know.”
The girl’s name came to Violet then–Bobbins, Lea Bobbins, from an out of the way, middle-sector, agricultural planet.
Violet recalled liking Lea when they first met, despite her naivety, there was something wholesome and refreshing about her.
“Seeing as I’m the topic of quite a few rumor strains that have been going around, I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific,” Violet replied.
Instead of smiling at Violet’s jestful reply, Lea’s face reddened as though embarrassed to even be bringing it up. “Marten and his friends… in the showers…” Lea paused, almost as if deciding to stop there or continue further into what was clearly an uncomfortable conversation for her. “It’s all anyone is talking about,” she finally managed to get out.
“What’s that got to do with us?” Trace asked, perhaps a bit too defensively. Violet shot her a glare that said, ‘play nice.’
“Well, that’s what I wanted to tell you about, if you didn’t already know…” Lea paused again.
Violet took a deep breath and resisted the urge to tell the wholesome recruit to fucking spit it out already.
“Most of the talk is that Violet had something to do with what happened to Marten and his buddies.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Trace blurted out.
Violet rolled her eyes at her.
Raising her hands, as if to pacify, Lea said, “Mostly everyone is happy that it happened, and even supportive of you–if you did have something to do with it that is…” she quickly corrected, “but regardless, public opinion seems to think that you’re involved, and if everyone else has heard it, you can be sure it will find its way to Marten as soon as he’s out of medical isolation. Anyway, like I said, I’d want to know if it was me.”
Violet thanked her, and watched her leave to rejoin her friends, before turning to Trace and burying her face in her chest. “What do we do?”
“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Trace whispered, taking Violet’s face in her hands and playfully slapping her cheeks. “We’re going to shut our mouths and go about our business until this all blows over. And it will blow over, Violet. Trust me.”
Violet opened her mouth to reply, but shut it quickly as she saw who was entering the commons area. It was a squad of MPs led by Rush Jenner, the security specialist, first class, who had graduated the year previous. Violet had never spoken with him before, but his reputation was not one of softness and forgiveness.
“Red alert!” Trace side-mouthed to Violet. “We should leave now.”
Violet couldn’t have agreed more. They both began to move as Jenner led his MP party down the central commons path.
“Not together,” Trace said.
Violet nodded and they both split up, heading in different directions. Violet watched the MPs march past her, and turned to see Trace exit at the far end of the commons. She was struck with a sudden fear that she might never see her friend again.
She needn’t have worried. She saw Trace again the very next day.