The World Flying Force Rebellion in the Shadows

Chapter 22- Accepting the Role

My alarm woke me in the morning. When I didn't even try to turn it off or get out of bed, a guard came in.

"You are required at your first class in fifteen minutes," His voice was extremely deep. I had dealt with this guard before. Rotowey. There was no way he had forgotten our little spat in the hallway. He had some sort of stick with him and gently tapped me with it. The tip was electrified and even the slight touch with it made me jump out of bed.

"You have ten minutes before I come back in here and check on you," He left the room and closed the door. I wasn't even sure what day it was or what class was next. My calcumat told me to get ready for stealth training. Getting into my uniform took a while, even with my injuries healed, where he had dug the chip out of my arm was still sore. I didn't bother combing my hair or brushing my teeth. Rotowey was standing with Krit'ts in my front room when I walked out. He looked almost as tired as I felt. The guard gave me a look from top to bottom and decided it was not satisfactory.

"Please see to your personal hygiene," he said. Krit'ts didn't talk, he just stood there watching me closely.

"No," it was a simple statement, but I felt its power resonate. Rotowey hadn't expected me to resist anything after using the shock-prod on me. He raised it again to give me some more motivation but Krit'ts stopped him.

"There's no need for that Rotowey, I will take care of this," Krit'ts dismissed him. We were the only two left in the front area of my small room. I certainly didn't want to talk to him. The silence was making me angrier.

"Well?!" I yelled, "you gonna make me 'see to my personal hygiene?'" I asked using Rotowey's same tone.

"No," he answered simply. However remorseful he felt; it didn't matter to me. I crossed my arms and waited for him to tell me what to do. He never did, but after five minutes just said, "Let's go."

We went to stealth training. I was on robotic mode but still noticed the class was half as large. Obviously Notawa and Arwago weren't there but also the instructor was gone. Santeeg had been replaced by some new lady. My curiosity got the better of me and I asked Krit'ts. He told me,

"Must have been 'reassigned,'" and he had given a non-committal shrug. Where they were headed in the four five two was a mystery to me. They must have had some sort of plan. Arwago had mentioned a secret base in the polar region but, had also mentioned that it wasn't large enough and that they didn't have supplies. Krit'ts seemed upset at the change in instructor. He brought it up at lunch while we sat together, even though he wasn't on duty.

"Santeeg wasn't in on it," he said quietly.

"Any idea where he went?"

"Probably just deserted honestly, that guy hated the Flying Force, but mostly out of laziness I think," he said. His soup looked horribly runny. At one point it dribbled down his chin over the bottom of his large scar. I figured he couldn't say no to me now.

"Where did the scars come from?" I asked.

"You don't want to know," he said. "I do, that's why I asked," he deserved every bit of attitude I was giving him.

"Fire, if you must know..." he told me, while looking into his bowl of soup.

"Didn't they offer to, I don't know, make them look, better?" I asked.

"Some wounds feel better to see everyday," then continued, "brush your hair yet?" he asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, you want to look how you feel," he said with a shrug, "even if the results are ugly," he pointed to the cheek covered in pockmarks.The words struck me hard. His scars weren't exactly ugly. Pretty much nothing would be able to take away from the attractiveness of his eyes. My glance wasn't lost on him,