Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Britta
T he holochamber’s control panel hummed as I stood in front of it, the soft whir of cooling systems interspersed with the occasional ping of diagnostic scans. I'd always loved this time of day, when the academy was still waking up and I could lose myself in the elegant complexity of holotech.
Even though the holochambers were in the School of Battle, I was alone—so far. No instructors slipping in for early training sessions or cadets trying to get extra practice on the various Blade apparatus.
“And no Zav.” I breathed out, the soft sound almost loud in the echoing quiet.
I wasn’t ready to face him after yesterday’s embarrassment. Besides, I thought better when I was alone with the machines, when I could let my mind sink into the pure logic of code and circuits.
The Taori had put in plenty of extra time on the Drexian’s holo technology, but today I was blissfully alone as I worked on Kann’s simulation. I didn’t put much stock in religion, but I mouthed a silent thank you to whatever sky gods might be listening on the far edge of the galaxy.
This peaceful work was a good reminder that I was amazing at what I did. After a couple of days feeling lost and out of balance, I now felt back on track.
My fingers danced over the interface as I adjusted the simulation and checked for glitches. The simulation Kann designed was proving to be a fascinating puzzle. The historical academy shimmered in the preview screen: harder edges, newer stone, more fortress than school. The early Drexians had built it as a castle first, perched on the edge of tall, cruel cliffs. I could see why maintaining temporal accuracy was a challenge—trying to show the academy as it was centuries ago meant stripping away layers of technological evolution and rendering a more primitive environment. That meant the academy in Kann’s simulation had no holochambers, no inclinations, no supersonic spaceships.
But it had been simpler to start with what we had on file—schematics from the current academy—and then strip off what was not needed. Building the academy from scratch would have taken considerably longer, although I had to admit that this way made it possible for inaccuracies to occur.
“Remove shield generator protocols,” I muttered, making mental notes. “Increase forest density by thirty percent. Add mineral deposits consistent with the pre-mining era.”
The personality modules were even trickier. Kann wanted to populate the simulation with historical Drexians, which meant creating AI constructs that would behave consistently with centuries-old cultural norms. I pulled up the behavioral parameters for a legendary general, frowning at his description in code.
I shook my head. “Kann wants him like this?”
I adjusted the simulation, wondering if this would actually be a better way to test cadets. It might have been successful in the past—and it might have fewer issues than the maze—but I wasn’t sure if any of the current cadets wanted to experience life in the academy of centuries past, especially since female cadets hadn’t existed back then.
At least I’d already gone through the process to be selected by one of the four schools. Even if this was the new method, I was already an Iron. My chest swelled at this, and I thought of receiving my parchment invitation to the Iron initiation. It had been one of the proudest moments of my life. And yesterday had been one of the most humiliating.
A groan escaped my lips. I didn’t know if I was more embarrassed by what happened with Zav or by my outburst at Kann, which I’d followed with another truly awkward moment I couldn’t explain to myself, even now.
I tipped my head forward to rest above the open panel. The cool metal felt good against my suddenly warm forehead. Zav was the one I'd been crushing on. He was the stuff of fantasies, especially for those of us who’d preferred Beauty and the Beast before the beast changed back into a man. Between the horns, tail, and the intricate tattoos that covered his bronze skin, he was definitely the best kind of beast. And he’d made me nervous in what I'd thought was a good way.
So then why was it Kann who made my pulse skip and my skin tingle? Kann, with his golden eyes and deep laugh. Kann, who could make me laugh even when I wanted to strangle him. Kann, who was my friend, whom I’d explicitly told I wasn’t interested in, who was absolutely off-limits as an instructor.
Then the image of his face as he’d held my hand to his bare chest flashed through my mind. He had not looked at me like a friend.
“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered to myself. “You didn’t work this hard to throw it all away over a hot alien.”
Sometimes, being one of the first human women accepted into the academy was a heavy responsibility. Every move any of us made reflected on all of us. One scandal, one mistake, and we'd prove right everyone who'd said humans weren't ready, that women couldn't handle the pressure. So far, my friends who’d gotten involved with Drexians had paired up with appropriate guys, even if they’d toed the line of what was encouraged.
It was acceptable for two instructors to date. It was allowed for two cadets to be together. But an instructor and a cadet?
I lifted my head from the wall. None of this mattered. Nothing had happened with Kann. I’d probably imagined the intensity of his gaze because he definitely knew better than to come on to a cadet, right?
The door hissed open behind me, and I stiffened as I turned.
Grek. The universe hates me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, proud that my voice stayed steady as I faced Kann. He wore the dark academy uniform, even if he did open the collar more than most instructors. I absolutely did not think about what was beneath the fabric and how it had looked all sweaty. Not even a little bit.
The corners of his lips quirked. “Last time I checked, the holochambers were part of the School of Battle. My school.”
“That's not what I meant.” I turned back to the console, pretending to study the circuitry. “It's early.”
"I like early." He moved closer, and I caught the faint scent of whatever spicy soap Drexians used. "Better question is why you're here, instead of at breakfast."
"I think better in the morning. Fewer distractions." Like half-naked instructors who had no business looking that good.
"Actually, I looked for you in the cadet dining hall. Jess said you'd be here."
My fingers stilled on the controls. Here it came—the awkward conversation about yesterday, about boundaries and appropriateness. I steeled myself for it.
"Thought you might want help," he said lightly. "Since it's my simulation you’re working on before class.” He held out one open palm. “I also brought you some bread.”
I glanced at the golden bread, the scent making my stomach rumble. Then I glanced at Kann. His expression was perfectly casual, as if nothing strange had happened between us. As if he hadn't held my hand against his sweaty chest. As if we hadn’t shared a laugh that had felt surprisingly intimate.
I took the bread. “Thanks,” I managed, taking a bite and letting my teeth sink into the warm, pillowy dough. “That would actually be helpful. I had some questions about the personality modules for your historical NPCs.”
He leaned over my shoulder to look at the display, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Show me."
This was fine. This was normal. Just two colleagues working on a project together. I could handle this.
If only I believed that.