Chapter 6
Carson Blake
He was at a loss. He'd given his lecture that morning, and then he'd gone back to his office to finish off whatever paperwork he'd been avoiding for the past few weeks. Now he had nothing to do. Which was unusual, because he was the head of the Force, and they existed to be busy. But right now, he was between missions.
And it felt like hell.
It gave him way too much time to think.
And he really didn't need that right now.
So he picked himself up and decided it was time for a walk instead. Trundling across the grounds, he found himself staying to the relatively unused paths. He really didn't want to be stopped by any undergrads for photos today. So he walked along the sides of the buildings, staying under the large trees, and enjoying the shade of their canopies. It was when he was slowly strolling past one enormous oak with a fantastically large trunk that he saw a cadet sleeping underneath it.
He chuckled under his breath as he walked past, then he stopped.
He recognized the black, unruly, spring-like hair.
Cadet Harper.
While he obviously didn't know much about her timetable, he could bet she was meant to be in class, and not snoozing under a tree.
He cleared his throat.
She didn't wake up.
In fact, she looked deeply, deeply asleep. Apart from her soft, percussive breathing, the only thing that moved was her left hand. It slowly twitched, as if she were trying to hold onto something.
She had an unnatural, restless silence about her, and he couldn't help but frown as he stood there and watched.
Then she whispered something.
He couldn't hear it properly, as it was little more than a mumble, but the quality of her tone lifted the fine hairs on the back of his neck and arms.
Realizing he could hardly stand there and watch her sleep when he knew she should be in class, he cleared his throat again. When that didn't work, he shifted forward and pushed the toe of her boot with his own.
She snapped up as if she'd been struck.
Planting her hands next to her and pushing her back off the tree, she jolted forward with a full-bodied twitch.
He actually jumped back, and as he did, he stared at her eyes as they shot open.
For just a second, for one simple second, he thought he saw something dancing in her pupils. Something that shouldn't be there. A flash of blue.
But again, he dismissed it immediately.
She looked completely disoriented as she stared down at her hands, around her, up at the tree, then over to him.
"You were sleeping," he supplied with a cough.
"What?" her voice was far off, and she quickly turned from him, staring down at the hand that had been twitching during her slumber. She appeared to consider it as if it somehow didn't belong to her.
"Are you??okay?" he tried slowly.
Eventually, she shook her head, looked back up at him, clearly realized who he was, and started to blush. "Oh??god??sorry, Lieutenant Blake."
"I think you should probably get to class," he managed after a long and extremely awkward pause.
"Class?" she asked, her confusion apparent. Then realization clearly struck her, and she bolted to her feet. She swore loudly.
He could have reprimanded her for it, but he didn't. Instead, he swallowed a small smile. "Didn't you sleep properly last night?" he asked, realizing the question was lame, but figuring he had to say something.
"I?" she looked at him, then turned around, glanced at her hand, and shook her head. "I have to get to class." She brushed the grass off her uniform, then turned around, staring at the buildings behind him as if she were trying to get her bearings.
When he realized she was about to rush off, he pushed a hand out. "Hold on," he began, realizing this was a perfect opportunity to ask her some questions, "there's something I need to talk to you about."
She didn't glance his way as she brought up her wristwatch and typed something into it. She clearly had no idea where she was meant to be, but with another particularly bitter cuss, she began to rush off across the grounds.
"Hold on," he repeated as he jogged to catch up.
"Oh no," she muttered under her breath, "he's going to kill me."
"Who's going to kill you?" Carson easily kept pace beside her.
"Commander Sharpe," she groaned. "I am already on reprimand. Oh dammit, why the hell did I go to sleep under that tree?" She searched around herself frantically, as if she'd forgotten her way.
"Where are you meant to be?" he asked helpfully.
"Training Centre Alpha-2," she looked down at her wristwatch again for confirmation. "I'm not very good with directions," she added needlessly, "and I've only been in the training center once before."
"It's this way," he said as he waved her forward.
He really didn't know why he was helping her get to class. He'd just caught her napping under a tree, and knew it was his duty to reprimand her for shirking off one of Sharpe's tutorials. Instead, he led her on, confidently walking through the halls as she awkwardly strode beside him.
Occasionally he would glance her way to note that her expression swung periodically between embarrassment and something??else.
Fear.
Panic of some description.
She kept looking at her left hand too. Pumping it back and forth as if she'd lost circulation to it.
"What were you dreaming of?" he found himself asking suddenly and possibly a little rudely.
She blinked as they entered the long corridor that led directly to Training Centre Alpha-2. "Sorry?"
He cleared his throat. "Before, under the tree, you looked like you were dreaming. You even said something under your breath?. So I was just wondering??never mind," he grimaced at how dumb he sounded.
"I wasn't dreaming," she answered with an almost dead tone. "And thank you for directing me here, Lieutenant," she nodded, even offering a salute. And though every other move she made was ungainly and uncoordinated, the salute was snapped, sharp, and proper. For some strange reason, he felt compelled to give one in reply.
Then she scooted off without another word.
He desperately wanted to know what she'd dreamt of, and what was wrong with her left hand, and, come to think of it, what exactly had happened to her down on Remus 12, but she turned and ran to class without even glancing over her shoulder at him.
He stood there, staring at the enormous black doors of the training center she'd just run through.
"Ha," he muttered under his breath. "This is just weird," he admitted objectively. Then he shook his head, realizing he had other things to do, and forced himself to walk away.
He didn't get far.
Just as he rounded the corner, Sharpe came marching up toward him. "Blake, just who I've been looking for. My other tutor for this session is sick, and I need somebody to stand in right now. You don't look busy. Are you busy?" he asked pointedly.
If it were anybody else asking that question, Blake would have brushed them off. He was the leader of the Force, after all, and could easily come up with an excuse to get out of most things.
But Commander Sharpe was Commander Sharpe, and Blake owed it to him. So, with a groan, he admitted he wasn't, and Sharpe took him by the arm, turned him around, and shoved him forward. "I know this is a little bit below your level of expertise, Lieutenant, but I need you to help me demonstrate class I TI weapons to some of my students."
Blake's eyebrows twitched up. "Class I?"
"Yes, yes, I know, child's play for you, but just humor me. I can't find another tutor, and I really don't want to cancel the class. I'm late as it is."
As Sharpe marched him forward, Blake quickly realized they were headed to Training Centre Alpha-2.
With a soft chuckle, he smiled.
Cadet Harper was in there, and if Sharpe was late, the class hadn't started yet, which meant she wouldn't get in trouble.
Lucky for her.
An
d the poor cadet really looked as though she could use some luck right now.
Once Sharpe marched him through the doors, Blake's presence was met with instant and excited muttering.
This training center was an enormous complex. A room of about 200 meters by 200 meters, it had enough space to allow budding cadets to learn the intricacies of TI weapons. It also had enough defensive parameters in place to stop them from doing harm to themselves or anybody else.
Because TI weapons, in untrained hands, were dangerous things.
"All right, listen up," Sharpe announced as he walked into the center of his class, "today we are lucky enough to have a true master with us," he gestured toward Blake.
Carson forced himself to lift a hand and wave to the class, but he winced as he did. Why did people always refer to him as a master? He was just a guy, for god's sake.
The class practically gave a collective cry of joy. Well, almost everybody did.
Carson found himself focusing on one cadet standing a little way from the group, shuffling her feet and staring at her left hand.
Cadet Harper.
She had such a confused expression on her face, and again it seemed that she was staring at her palm as if it didn't belong to her.
"Alright, class, spread out, you know the drill," Sharpe snapped. "Everybody pick up their class I weapons. Harper, you're with me," Sharpe added tersely at the end.
Harper looked up, her expression crumpling with obvious disappointment.
As her shoulders slumped, she walked past Carson without another look, heading toward Sharpe.
Carson turned on his foot to watch Harper and Sharpe head over to a different section of the training hall, where the far simpler TI objects were kept. The stuff they used for the first-year cadets, the kids who had only recently received their TI implants.
Was Sharpe simply reprimanding her by not allowing her to use the weapons, or had she never progressed?
Considering that question briefly, he came up with the answer all too readily.
She'd never progressed.
Though she seemed friendly and sweet, she really didn't come across as a competent cadet.
All too soon Carson found himself demonstrating class I weapons, and the students around him did their best to follow his example.
He was admittedly distracted, though.
He kept staring over at Sharpe as he tersely snapped at Harper to try harder. She was barely capable of shifting a small TI block off the floor. Though her face was deeply furrowed with concentration, no matter how hard she appeared to try, she just couldn't do it.
Sharpe looked practically apoplectic and kept telling her she was worse than she usually was.
Though Carson kept half an eye on her, he knew he couldn't allow himself to become completely distracted. Even though he was only dealing with class I weapons, he had to watch the rest of the students in case they had any accidents.
That being said, they all appeared to be quite talented, and one in particular was a cut above the rest.
Cadet J'Etem.
He recognized her from the Remus 12 mission. She was a friend of Cadet Harper and had already been selected as a potential recruit for the Force.
Her command of class I weapons was astounding.
Without any tutelage from him, she managed to pick up three blocks and spin them around herself with impressive speed. Though he could easily thrust out a hand to catch one, with practice, she'd be able to propel the blocks so fast they'd be able to crash through walls.
The blocks were about 30 centimeters square and made of completely smooth gunmetal-gray stone. Well, he said stone - in reality, they were pure telekinetic magnetized material. The very stuff TI implants operated on.
Still, even though they were only class I weapons, Cadet J'Etem had a good handle on them.
"That's great," Carson managed as he smiled at her.
Demurely, she offered a shy smile of her own. "Thank you; I've been practicing hard."
"That's great to hear," he said, realizing he'd said great twice as if he didn't have the brain cells to think of another word.
Someone sniggered at his side, and he turned to see it was Sharpe.
"How's it going, tutor?" Sharpe asked with a pointed look.
"Fine," Blake said.
"Cadet J'Etem here is one of our finest TI specialists," Sharpe pointed out needlessly.
Carson already knew that, though he liked the polite smile J'Etem gave at the compliment.
"It's nothing, really," she managed, "I'm nowhere as good as I should be."
"Don't be humble, Cadet; you've put in the hard yards, and it has paid off. Unlike some," Sharpe said as he shot Cadet Harper a stern look over his shoulder.
Harper, for her part, looked as if she'd given up. Several training blocks were strewn at her feet, but she didn't appear to have the ability to shift even one of them.
"You know, I could try to give her a hand," Carson offered as he nodded Harper's way.
Sharpe gave out a laugh like a bullet blast, "don't waste your time," he said simply.
Though Carson already knew Sharpe had a temper and a personality like a bulldog, he bristled at that. Yes, Harper appeared to be particularly incapable, but she didn't deserve everybody's ire. She wasn't incompetent on purpose. She simply appeared to be flaky. Yet before Carson could point this out, he watched as Cadet J'Etem reached down and managed to activate four blocks by her feet all at once.
He was impressed, and he offered her a smile that conveyed that.
Then, with perfect timing, she managed to make them spin around her.
She really was good, and he realized that before too long, she would undoubtedly make her way into the Force.
He could use good TI practitioners like her.
Yet, just as soon as those four blocks began to spin, one of them darted off.
Quickly.
In fact, blindingly fast.
He had time to stumble forward as surprise slackened his brow before the block shot across the room with the speed of a bullet.
It slammed into Harper.
She turned briefly, and he saw her eyes widen as the block smacked into the center of her chest, sending her flying as it did.
There was a crack, and it most definitely sounded like bone.
The block didn't just knock her off her feet. It pinned her to the ground.
Sharpe was the first to react. The Commander sprinted toward her, then reached forward with his hand, spreading his fingers and activating his implant. A faint yellow energy played across his fingers as he used as much power as he could muster to pull the block off Harper.
It should have been an easy task for somebody like Sharpe. For all the times he claimed Blake was a master, Sharpe was one of the best TI practitioners at the Academy. Yet as he reached Harper, it was clear he was having trouble pulling the training block off her chest.
It still pinned her to the ground, pushing down with all its weight against her chest.
"Come on," Sharpe hissed under his breath.
Then, with a snap, the training block finally released, and Sharpe managed to yank it off the cadet.
Carson now sprinted to his side.
"Oh god, Harper," Sharpe said under his breath. His anger was obvious, but so was his compassion. With one look at the man, you could see his features were pale and drawn. He immediately used his wrist device to check her vitals, then made a quick call to the medical bay.
Harper was unconscious.
Her head lolled to one side, her hair a mess over her shoulder as the clip that had fixed it lay broken beside her.
With a powerful kick of fear, Carson noticed a trickle of blood trailing down the side of her parted lips.
She'd just been struck by a speeding training block.
She was lucky to be alive.
"Blake, you deal with my students," Sharpe snapped as he stood over Harper protectively, waiting for the medical team to arrive. "And figure out what just happ
ened," he growled under his breath.
Carson wanted to point out he could take Harper to the medical bay, but he soon realized Sharpe had no intention of letting him. For all Sharpe's apparent hatred of Harper, he clearly felt responsible for her too, and right now, he looked exactly like a protective father. So, silently Carson stood back, watching as the medical team rushed in, placed Harper on a hovering stretcher, and took her away.
For far too long Carson stood there staring at the doors as they closed behind Sharpe.
Then he shook his head and forced himself to turn.
"Oh no, what did I do?" Cadet J'Etem croaked as she clapped her hands over her lips. Her eyes were wide and trembling with tears.
He turned to her and slowly glanced out at the rest of the cadets.
Everyone looked surprised.
And fair enough, though you often did have training accidents, that had been??terrible. That block had shot off toward Harper with unfathomable speed.
It could have killed her.
If Sharpe hadn't managed to disengage the block and pull it from her chest, it would have.
"What did I do?" J'Etem whimpered again.
Even though Cadet J'Etem was a particularly skilled TI practitioner, Carson knew she hadn't caused the accident. She didn't have the power or the skill.
"It's fine," he tried, giving J'Etem what he hoped was a commiserating nod, "she'll be fine," he added under his breath.
"What happened?" one of the other cadets asked, walking over to the offending training block. It still lay exactly where Sharpe had dumped it after pulling it off Harper's chest.
Frowning, Carson walked up to it and looked down. He lifted it up and turned it around in his hands.
It looked and felt normal, and as he quickly scanned it with his wrist device, he realized there wasn't anything overtly wrong with it. "It'll have to be tested. It's probably just??an imbalance in the magnetized material," he tried, realizing his explanation sounded implausible. Right now, he couldn't come up with anything better, though.
"I'm so sorry," Cadet J'Etem said, her hands still gripped over her mouth as her stunning eyes widened further.
"It wasn't your fault. This was an accident," Carson told her with a firm nod. "Now, I'm canceling this class. Return to your rooms, and head to your next class when it's time." With that, he nodded at Cadet J'Etem once more, hooked the training block under his arm, and headed for the doors. He'd take the block to one of the labs, to see if it really was malfunctioning in some way. Then he'd head up to the medical bay to see how Harper was.
Unfortunately, something came up, and by the time he reached the medical facility later that afternoon, Harper had already been discharged. Though the training block had broken several of her ribs and given her extensive internal bleeding, the wonders of modern medical technology had fixed her up immediately.
Apparently, she'd already been sent home.
Feeling disappointed that he hadn't been able to see her, Carson promised himself that at the next opportunity he would get, he would drop in to see how she was.
And yes, this time he would find the time to ask exactly what had happened down on that planet and what exactly she'd been dreaming of.