12
Quinn, Coalition Academy, Three Days Later
My mate was busy. She was always busy. Meeting after meeting, disciplining the cadets, and the instructors—meeting with a constant stream of Coalition Fleet personnel fresh from the front lines with reports on new battle techniques.
I’d pulled her into a few locked classrooms, bent her over a desk or two and reminded her who was in charge… but I was beginning to doubt she was really listening to me in that regard.
Wandering the grounds, I watched the cadets’ battle simulations from one of the control stations. They were damn good. Accurate. Meant to get the fighters ready for battle, and they did a great job of recreating the environments and terrains the Fleet fought on every day. But watching cadets scream and shoot and fake kill one anot
