Battlefields and Bloodlines

Chapter 1: This One Time, On A Godforsaken Cargo Frigate

Humanity, on the verge of extinction. Me, serving time on this godforsaken cargo frigate in the middle of deep space nowhere. 

The Office of Healthcare Affairs had sentenced me to two months on this godforsaken cargo frigate while they tried to figure out what to do with me. One year out of my extensive training to be a Battlefield Trauma Surgeon and I was on my fourth temporary assignment. It was an extremely bad look for my resume, especially when it should've been simple to place me: put the Battlefield Trauma Surgeon on the damn battlefield. 

 But things are more complicated than that when you've been through something like the attack on Camp Hopeful. They get more complicated when you're the niece of an Admiral in the United Space Armed Forces--and the daughter of a traitor who was dishonorably discharged for having a kid with the enemy.

Half human, half alien, daughter of a scientist who swore she didn't know who my father was, niece to a high ranking military official, that was me. And I was tired of it. 

I was tired of temporary assignments, tired of the politics, tired of psych evaluations, tired of doing the career equivalent of sitting on my hands. I was also tired of this ship. I wanted to be where I'd trained to be.

But I wasn't. And with each passing day here, I grew increasingly more bored and restless, hoping my request for a transfer to a field hospital would be granted. I wanted something more than this godforsaken cargo frigate. Nothing meaningful ever happened on cargo frigates. Not a single great story ever started with "this one time, on a cargo frigate".

But in the interim, I was trying to keep my skills sharp. Like practicing incision and suture techniques on the textured vegetable protein steak I'd saved from lunch earlier.

It was during this skills practice that Captain Dunn decided to walk into the medical center. Captain Dunn was a large, bulky man, with dark hair, dark eyes, impressive moustache, and a permanent irritated expression on his face. He didn't come into the medical center very often, but when he did, it always managed to be at the same time I was doing something stupid. Today's stupid activity was using the extremely expensive, state-of-the-art handheld surgical reduplicator on the textured vegetable protein steak I had cut into several pieces.

"Aiden." Captain Dunn said softly, almost threateningy. "What in god's name are you doing in here?"

I gestured at the tray in front of me. "I thought it was fairly obvious I was using the reduplicator to put this steak back together."

"I can see that part, Aiden." He said, his voice getting slightly louder. "But why are--" He stopped and waved a hand. "No, don't tell me. I don't want to get into that."

I coughed again. "What can I do for you, sir?" I asked.

"Nothing. I'm here to do something for you." He stepped towards me and handed me an electronic tablet.

"What's this?" I asked, frowning as I took the tablet from him.

"I need your signature on that. It's a transfer request."

I looked up at him. "A transfer request? Why?"

Captain Dunn made a sweeping gesture with his right hand. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because this assignment is so insufferable for you that you're using expensive surgical equipment on a steak?"

I scrawled a signature in the appropriate line on the electronic form and handed the tablet back, shaking my head. "That's true, but please know it isn't just you that's insufferable, sir, it's also the general atmosphere of this ship."

"You're not funny, Aiden. We're docking at New Lanasia in an hour, and that's where I'm kicking you off. Turns out they have an urgent need for someone of your qualifications and my expedited request came through just in time for you to get a transfer at that particular space port." Captain Dunn said, jabbing the tablet screen a few times.

"And that transfer is to...?" I asked, leaning forward slightly in anticipation of his answer. "Another ship." He said, still not looking up from the tablet. "It says here you'll get off the 'Walk The Plank' onto the transport ship, the 'Bear With Me', and that ship'll take you to your new assignment, a ship you've probably heard of."

I waited, staring at him impatiently. He looked up and stared back at me. The silence started to drag. It seemed to go on for an eternity. A minute passed. Captain Dunn remained silent, staring at me, his mouth partially open like he was on the verge of giving me an answer.

"Oh my god!" I shouted throwing my hands up.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you of all people would appreciate a dramatic reveal." Captain Dunn said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I let him know he wasn't funny in a way that couldn't be construed as insubordination, which meant exhaling as forcefully as I could.

The corner of his mustache twitched. "You're being assigned to the Divinity. You know, the USAF's most powerful warship. Apparently, their entire Orbital Deployment Special Mission Personnel team was killed in action last month and they're trying to staff a new team as quickly as possible. I managed to get in contact with the current commanding officer of the team and let her know I had a BTS wasting away here on my ship." Captain Dunn said, putting the tablet away.

I blinked. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." He said, giving me a wink. Then he made a forceful circular motion with his hand. "Get moving. You won't have much time between transfers, the Bear With Me is waiting on you. You'll need to find it as soon as possible."

I gave a sloppy salute. "Yes sir, thank you sir. It was nice working with you."

"I'm sure." Captain Dunn muttered, turning to walk out of the medical bay. He stopped for a moment and turned back to me. "Good luck, Aiden. Make something of yourself out there. Try not to die. And don't let them send you back to a place like this." Then he gave me what almost looked like a smirk. "Oh...and tell your uncle I said hello."

Of course my uncle had something to do with this assignment. I couldn't stop to think about that, though. I had more important things to think about. Like my new assignment on the Divinity's Orbital Deployment Personnel team. An ODP team was a very specialized strike team used in situations where USAF had to get boots on the ground, fast. Which means strapping each team member into a metal pod, launching the pod from orbit, letting the pod freefall and hope it ends up somewhere near the intended target and not like, in a lake.

As I shoved all my stuff into a large pack, I realized the thought of facing death and danger in active combat scared me far less than the thought of falling from space. I'd been in combat before, but never in a situation that required me to fall from space. Being attacked and murdered? That I could deal with. Falling to my death? Maybe not.

Medical personnel weren't usually a part of strike teams because after the Federation attack on Camp Hopeful, the USAF was really hurting for front line medical personnel. But I guess the Divinity was important enough that someone felt their strike team needed at least one medical provider.

Which meant I was going to be the Orbital Deployment Personnel Medical Provider. An ODMD, as they were lovingly called.

I swung my large backpack onto my shoulders, then realizing I didn't really like the thought of being called an ODMD. I'd trained to be a Battlefield Trauma Surgeon. I liked being called a BTS. It gave me a sense of pride to be referred to as a BTS, especially since I'd been one of the few surviving BTS's to come out of Camp Hopeful after the attack.

It was this thought that carried me as I stepped off the Walk The Plank and looked around the crowded spaceport at New Lanasia. As I adjusted my pack, which didn't have much in it-- just some uniforms, some electronics, some medical supplies and a non-regulation, very illegal medical device an acquaintence had sent me to test out-- I realized I had no idea where the transport ship I was supposed to get on was, or even what it looked like. Which was a problem, because the spaceport at New Lanasia was huge. New Lanasia was just a farming planet, but it was the only place in this galactic sector with an intergalactic space port, so it was massive and always crowded.

I figured my best approach to the problem was to just stand next to where the Walk The Plank had docked and let the commanding officer I was supposed to meet find me. It wasn't like I was hard to spot. Thanks to my questionable genetics, I'm huge. Six feet, four inches tall and much more heavily muscled than the average human female. I'm a hulking thing with long, ash blonde hair, yellowish green eyes, and I also look pretty mean most of the time. Or so I've been told. I'm probably the biggest, ugliest, meanest looking medic you'll ever see. Well, maybe not ugly. No one's ever confirmed that. Then again, no one's ever denied that either. But that aside, I was fairly easy to spot in a crowded spaceport, as long as the person who was looking for me was told, "You're looking for a big, blonde, mean-looking medic". Turns out, though, the person who was looking for me already knew what I looked like. "Aiden!" I heard a shout and turned to look for the source of it.

The source of the shout was no one other than Lieutenant Holly Fletcher, someone I'd worked with briefly at the USAF's high security prison on my home planet during one of my temporary assignments. An assignment I'd tried very hard to forget. Not a person I'd wanted to forget, though. And now it made sense why she'd accepted Captain Dunn's transfer suggestion-- you tend to accept the transfer requests of people who saved your life.

"Khasee Aiden." Fletcher said, approaching me and looking me up and down. "You haven't changed a bit, which is good, because that made it easy to find you."

"I'll take that as a compliment." I said, raising my hand for a salute.

"It was meant as one." Fletcher said, grabbing my hand for a handshake instead. "Alright, let's move. We've been waiting on you for a while. It's time for you to meet the rest of your current teammates, and time for all of us to get going."

I nodded and followed Fletcher as she made her way through the crowded spaceport with ease, until we arrived at a small ship that was 80% engine with the words "Bear With Me" blazoned on the side. Funny name for a transport ship, now that I thought about it.

I went to board but Fletcher put a hand out to stop me. She had a serious look on her face. "Aiden." She said quietly, so quietly I could barely hear her over the noise of the spaceport. "I know it seems like I'm making a bad decision having someone of your capacity on this team, but I figured it was something you'd want." She jerked her head towards the ship. "Skyy Jamison's on the team."

I stared at her. "Skyy?"

"Yeah. The explosives tech you were in basic with. The one you told me about. When I saw Captain Dunn's email about getting you off his ship, I thought you might want in on this team to see her again." Fletcher said, putting her hand on my shoulder. "I owe you one for saving my life after I was ripped apart by that Maragoran, and I figure this evens us out." She squinted at the ceiling. "Unless you die. Then, well..."

I laughed. "I don't plan on it." Then I gave her an appreciative smile. "There was never anything to even out in the first place, but I appreciate it."

Fletcher took her hand back, folded her arms and shook her head. "You keep saying there's nothing to even out, but I disagree. Anyway-- let's go." She waved a hand, indicating I should get on the ship, so I did.

I climbed into the cramped seating area and immediately met the gaze of Skyy, a small, dark skinned girl with short dark hair and shocked expression that seemed frozen on her face when she saw me. I folded myself into the seat next to her, gently punched her shoulder and grinned. "Good to see you again."

She just stared at me, her expression a mix of shock and happiness. Then she shook herself out her daze and punched me on the shoulder in return. "Good to see you too." She murmured, a smile spreading across her face.

Skyy Jamison was someone I'd consider one of my closest friends, and when we'd separated into our particular specialty training programs after basic, I didn't think I'd ever see her again. I was glad I was wrong about that.

I threw a look around the seating area of the ship as Fletcher boarded and stood at the front, the airlocks on the door of the ship hissing as it closed.

Directly across from me was a tall, fit man, who seemed to be in his mid twenties. He had light blonde hair, blue eyes and a chiseled jawline. Good looking, in good shape, and his eyes held a certain intensity. Next to him was a guy who was maybe 5'5, on a good day. The short guy was a ginger, with green eyes, and a very small, very scrawny build. They were speaking to each other in low voices.

Next to them was a guy with darkly tan skin, dark hair and dark eyes. He seemed relaxed, like he was assigned to important drop teams on prestigious ships all the time. His uniform had several medals on it and bore the name "Granger". He was looking at Fletcher. Next to him were two generic looking brunette white guys, with brown eyes and generic features, who's uniforms had names I couldn't quite read. They were looking at me.

I looked away and turned my attention to Fletcher, who cleared her throat.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Major Holly Fletcher, the commanding officer of the Divnity's Orbital Deployment Special Mission Personnel team. Let me introduce all of you to each other." She held a hand out to the good looking blonde guy. "This is Kyle Edwards, a gifted long range sniper with a side of expertise in hand to hand combat. He's wracked up more successful moving headshots than most USAF snipers combined. Stay close to him, because as his record shows, it's dangerous to keep him at a distance."

The blonde guy gave a short wave and nodded at all of us.

I smothered a groan at Fletcher's pithy distance joke. Her dad-esque sense of humor hadn't changed, unfortunately.

Fletcher pointed at the small redheaded guy. "Next to him is Craig Malone-- not only is he an expert in psychological warfare and strategical operations, he has more experience with advanced technology than most people who've worked for the USAF for decades. His experience ranges from the most complicated AI to the most basic battery operated toothbrush. If you can't figure out how to flush a toilet, he's the guy to ask."

The small redheaded guy gave a pained courtesy smile at Fletcher's statement.

Fletcher ignored him and waved a hand at the tan guy with dark hair, the one who positively oozed cool. "That's Tyler Granger. He's a deep cover special ops guy. They send him on missions that don't exist. He's the next best thing to a Gladiator. He's also fluent in pretty much every Federation language and knows his way around every Fed weapon that we know of. Even energy gauntlets. Don't mess with him, you'll lose."

The tan guy with dark hair smiled appreciatively at Fletcher as she continued, seemingly without pausing to breathe. "Over here we have Mark Johanson, special ops infantry vehicle and large weapons specialist. Can you take out a tank with your bare hands? Because he can. This guy also knows how to build and repair orbital defense guns, which means if it's large and can be used as a weapon, you get to stand back and watch him work some magic. Next to him is Alexander Ardon, from special ops target acquisition. He's been on drop teams before. He's got lots of expertise in both high value target retrieval and disposal. And yes, by disposal, I mean assassination. You'd better hope he gets sent to rescue you instead of...well, the other thing."

The two generic guys gave nods at all of us.

Fletcher finally took a breath and turned to Skyy and I. "Now, let me introduce the ladies of this team. First up is Skyy Jamison, a highly talented USAF explosives technician. She can create or dismantle explosive weapons, including ones of the nuclear variety, in the time it takes most people to tie their shoes. If something needs to go boom or be stopped from going boom, she'll make it happen."

Fletcher folded her arms and stared at me. "And last, but definitely not least: Dr. Khasee Aiden." She looked around at the group. "You'd better pay attention to this one. She's a Battlefield Trauma Surgeon-- one of the last and only BTS's to come out of Camp Hopeful. We're not required to have medical personnel on an OP team, but I thought it was a good idea, and since her availibility opened up, I jumped at the chance to have her here. She's a pacifist, so don't expect her to carry a gun, but she'll be the first person to step up as a human shield for you, unfortunately. I can also personally vouch for her quality of medical care. Her bedside manner, however, is another story."

I shot Fletcher a dirty look and saw her fighting off a grin. She knew full well that kidney punch had been an accident and my telling her it would build character to walk it off had been a jab at her melodramatics over said kidney punch.

Fletcher gestured at all of us. "Alright, that's it. I'm going to go sit with the pilot. Use the travel time to get to know each other, but if I catch wind of any arguing, I'm coming back here and making things ugly."

She opened the door to the cockpit and stepped inside, the door sliding closed after her.

The guy named Johanson leaned forward and looked at me. "What's wrong with your bedside manner?"

I leaned back in my seat. "You'll find out."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope not." Johanson snorted.

"So you're a Battlefield Trauma Surgeon?" The cool guy named Granger asked, also leaning forward.

"Yes." I answered, glancing at him.

"And you know both Fletcher and Skyy from somewhere?" The guy named Malone asked, squinting at me.

"Yes, I do."

"And you survived Camp Hopeful?" The blonde guy, Edwards, looked very intrigued.

"You're a pacifist? How'd you get involved in a war if you're a pacifist?" Ardon asked, squinting at me.

I threw my hands up. "I didn't realize that 'get to know each other' was a code for 'interrogate the medic'."

Granger leaned back and folded his arms, still smiling, still oozing cool. "Don't want to talk about the pacifist thing, eh?"
I leaned back and folded my arms, too. "Nope."

"She prefers to be shrouded in mystery." Skyy muttered under her breath. I shot her a look.

"As do I." Malone said, wiggling his eyebrows. "I pride myself on my personal air of mystique."

Granger laughed. "That's too bad, because I know enough about you that your shroud is no longer a mystery."

"How do you know?" Malone demanded, looking irate that he could no longer claim to be mysterious.

Granger shrugged, then smiled. "I actually know some things about all of you. I managed to find out who was going to be on this team and did extensive background checks on all of you." He glanced at me. "Except you. You were a last minute addition, so I don't know very much of anything about you-- yet."

"You won't find anything. Trust me, I've already tried multiple times to check her background." Skyy spoke up.

I squinted at her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I wanted to know what you were up to. But pretty much everything except your time at basic and your time at Camp Hopeful requires high level clearance to access."

"Makes sense." Edwards mused, leaning back in his seat and looking at me thoughtfully.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what he meant by what he just said. Did he know things about me? And if so, how much? I was slightly concerned, because I had more than a few skeletons in my closet. One was that Admiral Hawke was my uncle. A few others included my mother had been investigated for crimes against humanity for having a me and that I had been friends with an influential USAF scientist before accidentally sending her to prison. I hoped it was the uncle thing. That would be a lot easier to explain than the others.

"Why does that make sense?" Skyy asked, looking back and forth from Edwards to me.

"Probably the same reason most of my background takes a high level clearance to access."

 Ardon spoke up. "She's done stuff they don't want people to know about."

"She's a doctor and a pacifist, what could she have possibly done?" Johanson said in a condescending tone.

"Maybe they don't want people finding out I'm a pacifist." I retorted.

Everyone laughed except Johanson, who gave me a sour look.

Before anyone could say anything else, the door to the cockpit slid open and Fletcher emerged, waving her index finger in a circle. "Let's roll, people. We're about to dock on the Divinity. Make sure you behave yourselves or so help me god, I will make sure you regret it. Let's move!" She strode to the door of the ship and waited while the rest of us scrambled around undoing seatbelts, picking up our gear and falling into line behind her. I ended up at the back, right behind Edwards.

I grabbed the back of his collar in a vaguely threatening gesture. "Why does my blacked out file make sense to you, specifically?"

Edwards didn't respond for a moment. Then, he leaned back slightly. "You sure you want to know?"

"Yes." I practically hissed.

He coughed softly, clearly suppressing a laugh. "I met Admiral Hawke in a bar, Aiden. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. I know things about you that are probably way above my paygrade."

I let go of his collar. "You're not going to tell anyone." It wasn't a threat, because I could tell he wasn't.

"No, no I won't." Edwards confirmed, turning back to throw a grin at me. "I was mostly just trying to flirt my way into a saucy night with an Admiral and it turns out he was leaving earlier than I wanted to so I stayed with someone more my type. I had no idea that night would pay off later in different ways than I wanted."

"Well, now I have something new to bring up at the next holiday dinner." I said, exhaling slowly. I always thought my uncle was perpetually single to focus on his career, but I guess it turns out he was perpetually single because he was garbage at picking people up in bars.

Edwards laughed quietly. "Just don't bring up who I left the bar with instead."

"Who was it?" I asked, frowning.

"Oh, you'll see. You'll see, Dr. Aiden." Edwards said, mysteriously.

We moved into the Divinity's loading dock, following Fletcher. When we got to a set of lifts, she turned around and motioned us closer.

"We're going up to the bridge to meet the Captain and get a little bit of an orientation. Your official team name is Echo-Nine. That's how you'll be referred to here. Like I said before-- be on your best behavior or things'll get ugly-- because I'll make them ugly. Got that?" She leveled a threatening glare at all of us. "There are important people on this ship, including two fireteams of Gladiators: Fireteam Ruthless and Renegade Team. They've been here picking up the slack while Captain Lewis tries to re-staff his ship's drop team. Do not talk to the Gladiators unless they talk to you first. In fact, try not to talk to them at all. First impressions are too important for you chucklefucks to screw up by making small talk. Let's go." She motioned us into the lift and got in after we were all inside.

I shared a glance with Skyy, and it seemed we were thinking the same thing. Gladiators on this ship was a big deal that we hadn't seen coming.

Gladiators were biologically enhanced supersoldiers that were divided into two classifications: Alpha and Beta. Alpha Gladiators were trained and enhanced from childhood, whereas Beta Gladiators were trained and enhanced from the age of sixteen to eighteen. Renegade Team was a group of four Alpha Gladiators, Fireteam Ruthless was a group of Beta Gladiators. They were the stuff of legends, but that wasn't what made me nervous about meeting them. What made me nervous is that the man in charge of interrogating my mother during her "crimes against humanity" investigation was a member of Fireteam Ruthless. I wasn't worried that he'd tell people I was half Ragnarei, I was worried he might still be upset about that time I'd yeeted him out my front door when he got too rough with my mother during the investigation. I had been a large, strong child and he seemed the type to hold grudges. But then again, it was his fault for underestimating the child who's parentage was one human and one seven foot, humanoid alien.

"Gladiators? That's interesting." Edwards mused. "I've never seen one."

"I've met Renegade Team before. " Granger said. "They're a little stiff, but good people."

"I've met them too. Worked with them twice. " Ardon said. "Yeah, they're definitely a little stiff. But usually pretty nice."

"What about Fireteam Ruthless?" Malone asked. "Anyone know any of them?"

"I know Athena Vaughn. She helped me out with some stuff once, since she's basically the human race's premier expert on the Ragnarei language." Granger said. "She's great. I like her a lot."

Might as well get ahead of the curve on this one. "I've met William Lane. He sucks." I said, shortly, offering no explanation.

"Why does he suck?" Granger asked at the same time that Skyy said "Wait--when did you meet him?"

"He sucks because he's a jerk. And I met him when I threw him out of my house for being a jerk." I said, staring at the wall in front of me. "That's all I'm going to say. You can ask him about it." Everyone in the lift, including Fletcher, turned to stare at me. Most of them looked puzzled, except Skyy and Malone, who looked wildly intrigued, and Fletcher, who looked vaguely judgemental.

"Boy, I really want to hear that story." Malone breathed.

I glanced at him briefly, then back to the wall in front of me. "You're not going to hear it from me."

The silence was heavy in the elevator.

"I've heard Gladiator 102 is like, disgustingly attractive." I said, casually, trying to change the subject and absolutely succeeding.

"Oh, god. Don't go there." Fletcher groaned, her eyes rolling so hard her head tilted backwards.

"Where'd you hear that?" Malone asked, raising an eyebrow.

I pointed at Skyy.

"Oh, thanks. Throwing me under the bus here." Skyy hissed at me.

"But you're the one who said that." I countered, elbowing her.

"You didn't have to share it with the whole team!"

Edwards slid up next to Skyy and leaned on the wall. "Tell me. How hot is he?"

Skyy folded her arms.

"Come on, Jamison. Inquiring minds want to know." Edwards said, nudging her.

"You can't just leave us hanging." Ardon leaned around Edwards to peer at Skyy. Johanson leaned around Ardon, apparently waiting on the answer too.

Skyy relented, shaking her head. "Him and another Gladiator, 103, showed up at one of my training courses about surviving grenades."

"What would a class like that even consist of? How to make peace with dying in .005 seconds?" Johanson demanded. "You can't survive a grenade."

"You can't, but I can. Because I took the class." Skyy said, shrugging arrogantly.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation and continued to stare at the wall. I wasn't all that thrilled about being here anymore, now that I knew exactly who was on this ship. There was no way Gladiator Athena Vaughn didn't know who I was, being that she was the human expert on Ragnarei and I was probably the only recorded case of human-Ragnarei reproduction.

Maybe she wouldn't recognize me on sight, being that I mostly took after my mother and had managed to avoid my mystery Ragnarei father's sharp teeth, yellow eyes, slitted pupils and grey skin tone.

The Ragnarei were just one of the alien races of the Allied Federation of Worlds, the group that was trying to wipe out the human race. The others were Maragorans, Ungraths, Hyreens, Farquans, with some others scattered in that we didn't know much about because they never did any of the fighting. It seemed those ones were either too weak to fight or didn't have any reason to fight with humanity and were just along for the ride for political reasons. The reason the Federation was trying to kill us had never really been made clear. Was it over colonization conflict? Because the Hyreens got in a fight with the New USSR? It didn't seem like anyone really knew.

I didn't know. I didn't really care either. I was far more concerned with the fact that just over two decades ago, the Ragnarei had almost ended up leaving the Federation to side with humanity, but for whatever reason, it hadn't worked out. I suspected that was around the time I'd been conceived, but my mother had always been intentionally vague about any of the details of my conception, probably for both her safety and mine, but she did let on that the details involved explicit consent, an extremely brief romance and that my birth was a gift, so I couldn't really complain.

We finally got to the bridge, and I managed to pull myself out of my thoughts as the my team left the lift. It was an impressive place, full of activity, with people and consoles everywhere. An avatar of an AI flickered on one large console, processing data files.

A very good looking man in his early thirties with dark hair, a weary face and an impressively decorated uniform approached us.

"You must be Major Fletcher." He said, holding out his hand to her. "I'm Captain Lewis. This way, if you don't mind."

Fletcher motioned for us to follow her. She and Captain Lewis led us into a conference room where a large, gorgeous, dark haired woman with brown eyes stood next to a console, on which flickered the same AI avatar I'd just seen moments before.

I ended up standing next to Edwards, who nudged my ankle with his foot. I threw a look at him, and he raised his eyebrows at me, then glanced at Captain Lewis.

I looked at him, my forehead wrinkling slightly in confusion. What was he trying to tell me? I looked back at Captain Lewis, who nodded at the tall woman. "That's Gladiator Commander Sonja Payton. You'll all get to know her better than you'll get to know me, I'm afraid." He said, smiling hesitantly. I saw Captain Lewis glance over in our direction.

He was looking at Edwards.

Edwards nudged my ankle again.

Suddenly, I understood: Captain Lewis was the guy Edwards had left that bar with instead of my uncle.

I almost laughed. Almost. But I was better than that. Instead, I gently nudged Edwards's ankle with my foot to let him know I got it.

I saw his face twitch as he fought to keep from smiling.

Captain Lewis glanced at Edwards one more time, frowned slightly, then turned to the AI. "Mac? If you could....?"

"Of course, Captain." The AI said, his purple form flickering to a slightly darker color. He glanced at all of us and spoke in a flat voice. "Hello, Echo-Nine. I am the shipboard AI, MacAllen. Welcome to the Divinity. As the new Orbital Deployment Special Mission Personnel team, you will be assigned to your own quarters on the ship. This doubles as the training floor for all specialized personnel. You will be sharing rooms, and sharing the floor with the two teams of Gladiators that are currently on this ship, however, you will be stationed on the opposite side of the floor. You will have meals in the dining hall on floor eight, along with all other specialized personnel. The room assignments are as follows: Ardon and Johanson are assigned to Room 8. Fletcher is assigned to Room 7. Edwards, Malone and Granger are assigned to Room 6. Jamison and Aiden are assigned to Room 5." The AI flickered more intensely and frowned. "Forgive me Captain-- Permission to speak freely?"

"Permission granted, Mac." Captain Lewis said, glancing at Payton.

"I notice that there is a Battlefield Trauma Surgeon assigned to Room 5. Why is there a Battlefield Trauma Surgeon assigned to this team at all, especially with the shortages of medical personnel within the USAF?" The AI asked, scanning the group and looking at Skyy, presumably assuming she was the doctor and not the explosives technician. No one ever suspects the big one is the doctor. No one ever suspects the small one is the explosives technician, either. Captain Lewis frowned. "I'm not sure. Uh...Major?" He asked, turning to Fletcher.

Fletcher shrugged. "She was available, fresh off a transfer request from Captain Dunn of the Walk The Plank."

"Hmm." Captain Lewis said, looking confused. "Which one of you...?" He looked at all of us, clearly trying to figure out which one of us it was.

I stepped forward. "I'm from Camp Hopeful." I said, by way of explanation.

Captain Lewis looked surprised. He definitely hadn't expected the doctor to be the largest one on the team. No one ever did.

"Ah. Of course. Directive 4388-621." The AI said, flickering. "The USAF is attempting to ease you into combat roles to utilize your training without triggering any post traumatic stress you might have incurred during that incident. We have another Battlefield Trauma Surgeon on board here under the same directive. I apologize-- I do not have the clearance to access your particular personnel file."

But Captain Dunn did? He'd seen enough of my file to know who Fletcher was to me. Who was he? I felt like I should've tried harder to find out. He sure had a high level clearance for a guy that ran a cargo frigate.

"I believe it's your turn now, Payton." Captain Lewis spoke up, gesturing at Commander Payton, who was looking at Fletcher and I, a vague squint on her face.

"Thank you, Captain." Payton said, assuming a professional facial expression, stepping forward and looking us over. "We've scheduled several training exercises for you in the next few days. Since the two Gladiator teams will be here for another month until the drop squad's fully staffed, we'll have some training exercises to see how everyone works together and where everyone's strengths lie. Only a few of you will end up in whatever training exercise we do, and if you're not participating you'll be required to spectate. There'll be a critique session afterwards by those who spectated, so don't think you'll get off easy if you're a spectator. I'll try to put some team suggestions together, but it's ultimately up to my Gladiators which of you they want on a team with them. Sound good?" She looked at all of us.

"Sounds great." Fletcher said, answering for the whole group.

"Good. It was nice meeting all of you." Captain Lewis said, nodding at us, his gaze once again sliding over in Edwards's direction. "If you head down to floor six, Commander Payton will have someone come meet with you to give you a tour and help you get situated." He gave us all a nod and left the room.

Payton looked at Fletcher. "If you hit the button for 6D on the lift you came out of, it'll take you right to the place you're supposed to go. I'll go find someone to meet you there." She reached out a hand, and Fletcher shook it. "Thanks for being willing to work with my people."

"Of course." Fletcher replied. "Good to meet you, Commander."

"Likewise, Major." Payton glanced at us. "Good group you got here. I'd take any one of them." Giving a quick salue, she left the room.

"Lift. Go." Fletcher ordered, pointing at the doorway.

We all walked as crisply as we could back to the lift.