Chapter 6
Chapter Six
A mere two hours later, Batya had familiarized herself with all the technological capabilities of her room and read the 400-page code of conduct. She was wondering what else to do when there was a knock on her door.
The soldier in her doorway was steel-faced and his close-cropped hair stood in tiny spikes. For some reason, the combination of light grey eyes and dark skin reminded her of a wolf.
“It’s time for your orientation session.”
“Okay.”
Batya was starving but she wasn’t ready to say anything. Food was a part of any decent orientation. With any luck, they didn’t flout all the rules here. Nodding, she joined him in the hallway and kept up with his determined march.
After a few minutes of silent walking, he led her into a mid-sized room that was painted in shades of grey. A long white screen stretched from floor to ceiling at the farthest end.
In the middle of the room, there was a rectangular steel table with platters of food. Batya noticed four empty plates.
Ah, so I’ll have company from the other schools.
Her heart fluttered at the chance of besting even more competition. While she’d attended one of the best schools, it would be great to gauge what the others’ training was like.
“The other recruits will be with you shortly.”
He turned on his heel and strode away before Batya could ask any questions.
“I guess I should just dig in then,” she muttered to herself.
As she filled her plate with bread, cheese, vegetables, and an assortment of deli meats, two men and a woman burst through the door.
“Oh, good. I’m freaking starving,” the first man said, his bald head shining under the bright lights.
Batya sat in the chair closest to the door. While observing her new teammates she locked eyes with the other woman. Her cool green eyes appraised Batya.
Anyone else would have flinched under the intense stare but Batya only felt intrigued. The brain underneath that mess of red hair could be as cold and calculating as hers.
The redhead extended her hand when she took a seat.
“Merrill.”
“Batya.”
Merrill nodded at the two men still piling food on their plates.
“The bald glutton is Christopher and the blonde glutton is Alex.”
Christopher smiled broadly and turned to her.
“Or you can call me the Black Adonis if you’d like.”
Batya rolled her eyes.
“No thank you, Christopher,” she replied, placing an emphasis on his given name.
He shrugged and started to eat. Since they didn’t know what was in store for them, Batya and the others did the same. Just as they’d cleared their plates, a soldier walked in. He was the same one that had brought Batya into the room.
“Hello, recruits. Now that you’ve eaten, we can focus on what your next few days will be like. I trust you’ve all read the code of conduct manuals in your rooms?”
His grey eyes pierced into them, searching for any lies behind their nods of assent.
“Good. Now pay close attention to the presentation. It will not be repeated. Save your questions for the end.”
The minute scenes of battle filled the screen Batya leaned forward with growing interest. This squadron’s missions were even more varied than she’d heard. A fascinated smile spread across her face.
By the time the presentation was over, she was almost giddy with glee.
“Is something amusing, Batya?”
“No…sir.”
He smirked.
“As you might have noticed, our ranking structure is a bit different here. Think of us more like a company where there are entry-level employees, supervisors, managers and then the big man in charge. You’re all entry-level and I’m a manager. But sure, sir will do quite fine.”
Everyone else nodded, but Batya pressed further.
“Does that mean we don’t learn your names, sir?”
He retrieved four slim tablets and handed them out.
“More information for you to study. Names and all.”
When he looked pointedly at Batya, a brief heat flared in her cheeks.
“Are there any other questions?”
There was a chorus of, “No, sir,” around the table.
“Good. Be prepared for extensive training in the morning.”
He marched from the room. Alex sported a grin that spread all the way to his sky-blue eyes.
“Well, someone’s gotten into management’s good graces. I don’t know whether to call you teacher’s pet or employee of the month.”
Annoyed, Batya grabbed her fork and jabbed it a hair’s breadth away from Alex’s eye. To his credit, the young soldier didn’t flinch. He was already pressing the sharp tines of his fork into her arm.
With a bit more force, both of them could have drawn blood.
“You can call me Batya the Bloody.”
“Duly noted.”
They pulled their forks away at the same time.
“It’s refreshing to finally be in worthy company,” Merrill stated, with a smile.
Batya couldn’t have agreed more.