Daughter of Nox

Chapter Thirty-Six

Freya tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for Sergeant Dover to finish his inspection of her sim pod. Nearby, Pavo and his group of Core-Worlder friends stood by, all of them laughing hysterically at something which Freya strongly suspected had to do with her.

The sound of Sergeant Dover climbing down the rungs of the sim pod snapped Freya's concentration.

"Well?" Freya said expectantly. "Did you find the slicing in the code?"

Sergeant Dover shook his head. "There's no slicing that I could find, Novice."

"You have to look again," Freya stammered. "Check the footage of the sim. You'll hear him in my speakers. You'll see what I mean."

Sergeant Dover scowled. "I've already done that," he said, pointing to the sim, "and from what I can tell, the only problem was that you didn't activate your shields prior to engaging in the Trial, and your shooting was off target."

"So you're saying that it was all just bad aim?" Freya couldn't disguise her outraged shock. "Except that's not very likely, seeing as my cannons didn't work."

"The sims are programmed to produce malfunctions just like a real ship," Sergeant Dover said. "What you likely experienced was something like that after your first hit."

"Slag that." She pointed across the bay to where Pavo stood. "I know that he did something to my sim."

"Look, Novice, I understand that you're upset, but this is clearly a case of user error."

"The only error here is your flaming inability to figure out what he did."

Freya knew as soon as she'd said the words that she'd gone too far. Sergeant Dover drew himself up, his eyes glinting like sparks off flint.

"In light of this being the end of the term, and the stress you are surely under, I will forgive the disrespect you've shown me." He stepped closer to her, his voice the familiar gravely bass he used when he was angry. "For now I think it's in your best interests to return to your barracks and pack for the winter break."

Freya gnawed her lip. She wanted to argue, wanted to scream her outrage until Reynard himself showed up, but she knew it would do her no good. And so making sure not to look at Pavo and his friends, she turned from sim pod and left.

###

An overcast sky hung overhead as Novices packing the space around the Academy landing pads the next day, each face staring eagerly up at the procession of cruisers waiting for clearance to land. It was the first day of term's end, and everyone was hungry for some time pretending that they weren't Novices for a little while.

Everyone, that was, except for Freya.

It wasn't that she wanted to stay at Academy. The prospect of freedom from Academy's rigid routine, of eating and sleeping and relaxing whenever she wanted, was a welcome one. Except that with the promise of Hela's presence, going home didn't sound relaxing.

Freya's felt a tug on her arm, and turned to find Etta pointing up at a cruiser descending toward a nearby landing pad.

"Ride's here," she said, and pulled Freya into the crowd after her.

Freya squinted at the sky as she followed, and felt the melancholy fall away from her heart. The blacked out windows of her father's personal cruiser–the cruiser only he flew–glinted in the dreary light as it sank toward the landing pad. Seeing the cruiser meant that her father was on-world. And, Freya thought, more importantly, it meant she'd have backup in case Hela tried anything crazy.

The cruiser had barely settled onto the landing pad when Freya tugged open the door, a wide smile pushing her cheeks so high it almost hurt. But as the door swung up and Freya started to greet her father, her smile fell.