The metallic chink, chink, chink of the chain that suspended the heavy bag that Violet battered with lefts and rights filled the empty room. It was late, most of her classmates would have already turned in for the night, but Violet was restless. She couldn’t sleep. In fact, she couldn’t do much of anything since Trace had been washed out. It had only been a week, but the time had passed at a snail’s pace.

Feelings over her friend aside, Violet was starting to feel some of the power return in her muscles. She was still a ways off from the strength she’d felt when she first arrived at the Academy, but any increase was a good thing. She had a feeling she would need all the strength she could get once Marten returned from the private medical quarters his family had arranged for him to recover in.

Every strike of Violet’s gloved fists left a slight divot in the heavy bag wherever she landed. The last time she’d attempted rounds on the bag, it hadn’t given beneath her blows at all. Indeed, it had barely even moved, weighing almost as much as she did.

Today, however, the bag swung freely as Violet dug in, sweat flying from her brow with each pop. Each chink of the chain, brought a boost to Violet’s psyche as she relished the small and perhaps insignificant display of control she was able to muster over her life and current circumstances.

Behind her, the door to the gym opened as she continued her rounds. Whether she heard it or not, she gave no indication. She just kept pounding away at the bag with the heaviest shots she could manage, ending in a flurry that only stopped when the bag jumped off its hook and landed on the floor with a thud.

“Quite impressive,” the intruder spoke.

Violet turned as if forgetting someone had joined her in the room. “Guess I was just feeling it tonight,” she said, breathing heavily.

She took her gloves off, using her teeth to assist with the first one until she was able to slip it off. Next, she undid the wraps that covered her wrists and knuckles. She nodded to the bag on the floor. “Give me a hand?”

The intruder, a low-level security officer from the insignia on his uniform, hesitated, weighing the desire to help Violet and the need to carry out whatever orders had brought him here.

Violet saw the dilemma play out over his facial features. “Come on, it’ll only take a second and then you can do what you came here to do… Hell, you might even be able to do both at the same time.”

The man grinned and seemed to come to a consensus. He moved to help Violet. “On three?”

Violet nodded and together they hefted the bag back to its original place. “Thanks, uh–” She paused, waiting for the security man to offer his name.

It took him a moment, but he finally said, “Seaver.”

“Thanks, Seaver. My name’s Vio–”

“I know,” he cut her off. “I was sent to find you. Colonel Webster would like a word.”

“Now?” Violet asked. “And would like or has ordered?”

Seaver nodded. “Yes, now, and does it really matter?”

Violet sighed, and looked over her sweat stained appearance. “Can I at least shower first?”

Seaver spoke into his comms and awaited a reply that Violet could not hear. “The colonel expects you in his office in 15 minutes… so, I guess that depends on how quickly you shower?”

“Great, thanks so much,” Violet said sarcastically. She walked out of the gym and hurried to her quarters to rinse off and change. Behind her, she heard the heavy, lumbering footsteps of the security officer and spun. “You’re following me?”

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“My orders were to escort you to the colonel’s office, so, yes.”

Violet sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever…”

As she neared the Colonel’s office, Violet unwrapped the towel from her head, fluffed her hair with one hand, and tossed the towel into the face of her escort. “I got it from here, thanks.”

She entered the office, and the security escort followed. The Colonel sat behind his desk, illuminated by an overhead light, the only one on in the room. He looked up, eyed Violet and then the security officer. “That’ll be all.”

The escort opened and then closed his mouth without saying a word. He turned and left.

Violet stood at attention, studying the colonel. Despite the late hour, he was still in uniform, although his top few buttons were undone, and his sleeves rolled up. Bags hung under his reddened eyes as if he hadn’t slept in a few days, but Violet highly doubted that. Maybe it was the stress of the job? A nearly empty lowball glass sat in front him. He glanced at it, picked it up and swirled it before draining the last of its contents.

The colonel stood, motioning at one of the chairs in front of his desk at the same time. “Sit,” he said, and then took the glass from his desk and walked over to a cabinet in the corner. Violet heard a few clinks of glass as she sat herself and when the colonel turned back around, he held a half-full glass of liquor. Violet could tell by the fumes that wafted off the glass–scotch, if she had to guess. Only question was whether it was authentic or one of the many synth brands that were always trying to pass themselves off as the real thing.

He returned to his seat and Violet noticed for the first time the redness around his neck and cheeks. He cleared his throat. “There’s no easy way to say this…” He took a deep breath and let out a long sighing exhale. “I’ve been informed that your progress has been deemed unsatisfactory.”

Violet sat in a stunned silence, unsure whether she had heard the man correctly or not. Unsatisfactory? There was no way! The longer she thought about it, the more her temper began to rise.

“I can see that you’re upset, but–”

“Upset?” Violet snapped, aware she was still speaking to a superior officer, but uncaring about the consequences at the moment. “Upset??? With all due respect, Colonel, this is bullshit! I know I may not be at the top of my class, but I sure as shit am not at the bottom, either.”

The colonel set his jaw, grinding his teeth together as he listened to Violet’s tirade.

“Unsatisfactory?” Violet continued. “Unsatisfactory in what way? If you’re going to wash me out, the least you can do is give me the truth!”

The colonel pounded the desk, finally hearing enough. “Alright! You want the truth? Here it is! You fucked up, Weaver! Okay? This is on you!”

Violet’s eyes began to water, whether from rage or one of the myriad of other emotions she was feeling, she couldn’t tell.

“I was going to sugar coat it for you, tell you that ‘it’s nothing to be ashamed of–you’re younger than most candidates’...” The colonel started running out of steam as a few tears started streaking down Violet’s cheeks. “Aw hell, truth be told, I may have rushed you. You’re still dealing with the after effects of what happened to you aboard Tryptek Station, and maybe I should have made a better effort to help you acclimatize to what was being asked of you here… but bottom line is that the current circumstances you find yourself in are that you’re in over your head.”

He paused, waiting for Violet to offer any further outbursts or arguments, but she was done for the moment. She listened on, grinding her teeth as occasional tears spilled.

“This isn’t the end, Ms. Weaver, just the end for you here. We still think you show great promise, and given some more time, will make a fine addition to next year’s trainee class. In the meantime, you will be transferred to another facility where you will receive private tutoring and testing that will prepare you for next year’s Academy class.”

“You don’t have to protect me from him,” Violet said.

Webster took a long drink and leaned back into his chair. “And yet, it seems that I do. But not just him. No, you may in fact be able to hold your own against him here, in the confines of this base, but outside these walls?” The colonel shook his head. “He comes from a family of means, with far-reaching influence. There’s no telling how far their reach truly extends.”

“Like all the way to here and now?”

The colonel bit his lip, holding back from his urge to punish her insubordination. If he was being honest, he even agreed with her point.

“Indeed, Ms. Weaver. Which should hopefully give you pause for consideration. So as much as it may piss you off, I’m trying to look out for your best interests here. If you disappear for a while, this whole thing blows over. The senators feel like they’ve gotten their pound of flesh, and this doesn’t need to escalate into something more–” he paused, searching for the word, “irreversible.”

He stood and gestured toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have transfer paperwork to finalize, and you have a little over an hour to pack whatever belongings you have before your transport gets here from the belt.”

As she left, the lingering smell of scotch found her nostrils, and she couldn’t help but think the least the bastard could have done was offer her a drink.