Heritage

Heritage (Chapter 9)

Chapter 9 - Stella

“I can’t believe the Commander is forcing you to work with that arrogant ass!”  Monica exclaims to me as I hand her a glass of water.

She’s still in the infirmary so I thought I’d come and visit her before meeting up with Leon.

Commander Blake stopped me right before I exited her classroom earlier today, to let me know that her private workroom would be available at six o clock, for Leon and I to use.

We spent all of class hunched over our tablets and our A.I. Projectors, trying to not only keep up with class but also attempting to figure out how to fix that damn pest of a circuit board. We came up short each time, and that s when Leon suggested we worked after class hours on it, so we didn’t interfere without regular workload.

I reluctantly agreed, worrying that his arrogant demeanor would once again find its way back. He didn’t say much today, but when he did his usual attitude was absent.

Yesterday at lunch, the look on his face was that of a lost puppy trying to find his way home. Today, much of the same look crossed his features as I glanced over at him at regular intervals.

After classes were finished, I had decided to head back to my HabMod to freshen up a bit after another grueling day of study. I had soaked in a hot bath and took my time brushing and drying my hair, before slipping into my casual uniform.

Our casual wear consists of plain white t-shirts, black cotton track pants or shorts with the Poseidon insignia in red on the hip, and plain white sneakers of our choosing.

After I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail, I grabbed my tablet and slung my workbag over my shoulder, and headed to the infirmary to see Monica.

“Listen, Monica…I know he’s a jerk, but I’m not about to go up against Commander Blake. You know she’s my idol, and if I have to bear with her son for a few days, or at this rate, weeks…then so be it,” I say to her, passing her the bottle of headache capsules.

“I guess you’re right. He just irritates me with the way he walks around like he’s hot shit all the time,” Monica explains.

For some odd reason, her comment causes a twinge of annoyance in me. Maybe this is the reason that Leon acts the way he does? Maybe people judge him too much and he just takes it and runs with it.

“Well, we’ll see I suppose,” I say to her, avoiding the animosity. I made a promise to myself last night after a lot of contemplation that I wasn’t going to make any more snap judgments about Leon until I got to know him a bit better.

Tonight would be a chance to do just that.

“Are you alright, Stella?”  Monica asks me, sipping her water again. Her official diagnosis from the ship’s nurse was the stomach flu, and she’ll be in the infirmary for no less than three more days, when she’s not contagious anymore.

When I came in, the nurse gave me a paper surgical mask to wear while visiting, so I’m not the next patient throwing up into a bedpan like Monica.

“Yeah, just worried about this stupid circuit board, neither of us can seem to find a solution, and it’s bugging me. Oh, crap!” I exclaim, looking up at the infirmary’s clock and noticing the time, “I gotta go! I’ll come back and visit you before breakfast, feel better!”  I say to her in a rush, gathering my things and practically jogging for the door, tossing my surgical mask in the garbage on my way out.

The corridors are relatively clear, with the exception of a few Senior Cadets and their squads, and I’m able to keep up a steady pace as I wind my way through the halls towards Commander Blake s workroom.