Playing back the prior ten minutes of her increasingly incredulous life, Violet came to the decision that she couldn’t trust the professor. Not that she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t. There was just no way to tell if he belonged to Dr. Silva’s rebel faction or if he was bought and paid for by the GRMI. While she definitely felt out in the open and exposed, she hadn’t actually talked about her abduction so she was still safe as far as her orders went. And that was the way she was going to keep it, at least until she had no other choice.
She instantly felt better, having come to some sort of decision on the matter, and quickly slung her back on her shoulder. Perhaps if she hurried, she could still get some decent training in with the gladius. She burst through lecture hall doors, determined to turn her day around, and bumped straight into Lea Bobbins out in the hallway, knocking the wind out of the poor, sweet girl.
Violet felt a twinge of guilt mixed with pity as she tried to comfort Lea, patting her on the back as she gasped for air. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“It’s okay, I was actually looking for you,” Lea managed in between painful breaths.
Violet glanced at the time. She needed to hurry if she was going to get any meaningful training in. “Well, unfortunately for you, you found me. What’s up?”
Lea straightened up, her breathing mostly returned to normal, and glanced nervously up and down the hall where several other classmates traversed the corridor. “Not here… Walk with me.”
Violet fought the urge to roll her eyes, and gestured for Lea to lead on.
They ducked down an adjoining hallway that was empty, and Lea delivered her news. “Trace is getting spaced. She’s–”
Blood rushed to Violet’s ears. Her stomach threatened to empty itself. Lea was still talking, but Violet heard nothing more that she said. First she’d lost Becky, and now her only friend in her new life, Trace, was being punished for the attack she’d helped carry out on Marten.
While her first thought was for her friend, Violet’s next thought was pure self-preservation. How long until she was next? She had a vision of Rush Jenner leading a squad of MPs marching through the base, hunting her down. She rushed toward the shuttlebay, leaving Lea with a bewildered look on her face, still in mid-sentence.
People littered the passageways in between Violet and the shuttlebay, and she plowed ahead, careening off several of them who may or may not have been ranking officers. She thought she might have a seen a Lieutenant’s stripes on one of the women she smacked into as she tried to a make a corner that was too tight for the speed she managed. There was a decent chance she’d be disciplined, or worse, for insubordination, but she couldn’t dwell on that now. The irony of being spaced for rushing to check on her friend who was getting spaced was not lost on her.
Violet turned the final corner, entering a long connecting passage with the shuttlebay entrance at the far end, and saw her worst fears come to life. A troop transport was lifting off, still powered by the initial repulsors that provided vertical lift, but the main drive jets were rotating into position. She raced forward, not knowing how she would stop the transport from leaving, but feeling like she owed it to her friend to try.
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Several guards at the entrance raised their rifles to bar access to the shuttlebay. “Hold up there, cadet. What’s the big rush?”
Violet slowed but didn’t stop, allowing herself to crash into the guards’ outstretched arms. “Please, my friend’s on that ship!”
“That’s great, but it doesn’t change the fact that you still need to scan in.” The other guard pointed at the scanner beside the door. “Retinal and badge.”
Violet stared beyond the guards, watching the transport's main thrusters ignite from blue to orange. She provided the various forms of identification that the scanner required, and then pushed past the guards as the scanner signaled all clear with a pleasant chime and a bright green screen.
The shuttlebay held several other troop transports, one diplomatic shuttle, and a squadron of fighters. Crew members, dressed in orange coveralls, scurried back and forth, almost like ants, following winding cables, wires, and refueling lines that networked over the vast concrete flooring.
Violet could not make out anything in the shuttlebay except for the transport that was leaving the maglock field and entering real space. Violet ran out onto the empty bay where the transport and her friend had been just moment’s before. Her hands raised up on top of her head, grabbing a fistful of dark, tangled locks and pulling.
“Violet?”
She turned to find the source of the voice behind her, and there, sitting on a bench against the wall was Trace, along with several others who Violet recognized as low achievers in the Academy. Trace stood and approached her.
“I thought you’d been spaced because of…” Violet glanced around, looking for signs that anyone was eavesdropping. “You know…”
Trace nodded with a slight smile, her face a mixture of mischief and embarrassment. “I know… I knew you’d be worried. I tried to get them to let me come tell you in person, but protocol this, security that, blah, blah, blah…”
Violet blinked back tears and embraced her friend, squeezing for all her worth.
“Easy there, killer,” Trace coughed out, struggling to breathe under the embrace. She managed to wiggle free and held Violet at arm’s length. “I want you to listen to me, okay? This is not your fault. I know you're going to try to do your best to take all of the blame on yourself, and you'll lie awake at night dreaming up elaborate schemes that will give you reasons that you are to blame. and you'll beat yourself up convincing yourself that there were a million things that you could have done to change what happened but I want you to know this is all me girl. nobody got me here but myself. and I want you to know there's no one I would have rather had by my side than you. You were the best friend I could have ever asked for and i would burn those fuckers and anyone else who tried to mess with you a thousand times over, you hear me?”
Trace wiped the tears from Violet’s cheek. “Look at the state of you… All this fuss for little old me?”
Violet punched her in the arm. “Fuck you,” she laughed and sniffled as she said it. “I thought… well, I thought the worst. You were the first friend I made here. My only friend.” Tears threatened to flow once again, but Violet wouldn’t let them a second time. She willed them away, turning to watch another shuttle approach the landing pad. The shuttle that would bear her friend away.
“This doesn’t change any of that, Violet. You’ll see. This isn’t goodbye so much as it’s until next time.”
A voice, distorted from the tinny intercom speakers, delivered instructions for boarding the flight.
“This is me.” Trace winked and gave Violet once last hug goodbye.
Violet watched her shoulder her duffel bag, carrying all her worldly possessions, and join the boarding line for the shuttle. As the line slowly shortened, Violet felt the urge to cry out and deliver some heartfelt plea for her friend to stay, but she remained silent. Her mind perhaps wiser than her heart at the moment.
In another moment, the line was empty and the doors to the shuttle were sealed shut. As the transport took off, the wash from the engines blew over Violet, whipping her hair every which way. She shivered and rubbed her arms with her hands in a feeble attempt to warm herself. Whether the chill came from the wind or the stark reality that she was all on her own again, Violet couldn’t tell.