ENSIGN (A Starship Hope Prequel)

CHAPTER 2B/3A

Dana turned to face her instructors, beaming with pride, but not one of them would meet her eyes. Shaken by their obvious disdain, she hurried back to her seat. She'd been no one's favorite student, but she'd gone above and beyond to prove herself to them. Why couldn't they at least acknowledge what she'd accomplished on her own?

With a decorated captain as a father, her early years had drawn some pretenders, instructors hoping to garner favor with him through her. Others had been so hard to please it seemed nothing she did would ever make them happy.

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd as she returned to her seat. At first she thought they'd noticed the way the instructors had ignored her. Then she heard it.

Princess.

The nickname was a taunt designed to remind her of her privileged status, her unfair advantages over the other cadets. Now, being assigned to the Atlantis was all the confirmation they needed, assuming it was more nepotism. But they didn't know her father. He'd taught her a long time ago that she had to succeed or fail all on her own. If four years working side-by-side in the academy together hadn't convinced them, though, nothing would.

Dana plopped down between her two friends. The icy anger coming from Kristoff had her leaning in closer to Bonnie, who gripped Dana's hand in both excitement and comfort. Kristoff's refusal to look at either of them surprised her. Was it because they'd both been assigned to a starship, or because they'd ended up on the same vessel? Dana kept her distance, unsure how to respond to the fury reverberating off of him.

After the general's brief closing remarks, the ceremonies ended. Kristoff leaped to his feet and darted off into the crowd. Bonnie called out after him, but he didn't turn around. In seconds, they lost sight of him, disappearing in the mob of cadets. Dana had planned to pull him aside with Bonnie, to convince them all to have a drink together and talk about how unfair it was they'd been separated.

"I don't know what's the matter with him," Bonnie said, resting an arm on her shoulder. "We all understood the risks. Graduation doesn't guarantee you a seat on a starship. There's just not enough ships for all of us to make it."

Dana nodded, wondering if Bonnie would be still be so diplomatic if she hadn't been one of the chosen. She'd never thought about it before, but seeing Kristoff go cold in a flash made Dana think twice about both friendships. Had that ice always been in him, hiding just under the surface?

"He's going to need some time," Dana said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"Well, I refuse to let him dampen our excitement." Bonnie rubbed the palms of her hands together. "It's our graduation day, after all, and I plan to enjoy it."

"We've got an early call in the morning—oh-eight hundred," Dana reminded her. "We can't be late."

Bonnie giggled. "That's why we're going to get started now!"

Dana glanced toward the stage, where several professors still stood talking, disappointed her father didn't stand among them. She'd wanted to corner him and ask why he'd chosen her for his ship. He'd have some rational explanation for why he'd picked her instead of allowing one of the other captains a chance, and the unease making her chest tight would subside.

But it would have to wait. Her days of proving herself weren't over yet.

"Come on." Bonnie pulled her along, not allowing any protest. Not that it mattered. Dana had learned years ago that Bonnie had mastered the art of partying, and didn't understand the meaning of 'no'.

***

Dana flew through the atmosphere and into orbit, whooping as her ship entered space. She reveled in the isolation and peace of being alone at the helm—