The final rankings were posted that evening. Isabella had placed seventh out of forty cadets. Real, measurable progress.
Roman had placed second. Melinda had placed first.
Haruka had placed thirty-eighth—near the bottom, but she'd finished. When Isabella found her in the common area later, she was studying her datapad with her usual intensity, her injured shoulder still braced.
"You okay with the ranking?" Isabella asked.
Haruka looked up, her expression dry. "I'm fine with it. I finished a zero-g combat course with a partially dislocated shoulder. The fact that I'm not dead last is honestly impressive." She paused. "Besides, I don't trust their ranking system anyway. It measures speed and precision, not adaptability or problem-solving under constraints. I'd rather be last on my own te
