Ilius ate slowly, not trying to taste the food, but to see how kids up here really act like. There were boys up to about fourteen years sitting at the tables, trying to choke down the food designed for their diet. Ilius tried keeping his gaze low from the boys that were on his shuttle, keeping his profile low. He had enough trouble for a day.

"So, this is what Battleschool is like…" Alan said. He was looking around the room with wide eyes as though he was trying to get attracted. Everyone else here was already used to new "launchies" and didn't even pay attention to the new batch unless there were truly ones to be worried about. Unfortunately for Ilius he was already the source of the problem in his own group. It couldn't get any worse than it already has been.

"I wonder what we're going to do with those guns in there," Alan commented. He pointed his index finger and thumb like they were formed to be a pistol and squinted out of one eye, aiming. "Shoot them down. Shoot them all down. Down with the Buggers. They don't deserve to live."

He put his hand down when he saw something in the corner. "Hey, look."

Ilius followed his gaze. All he saw was just another person sitting in the corner. The only difference was that the person wasn't a boy like the rest of them.

"A girl? I didn't even know they were allowed," Alan said.

"There's a few here, not many," a voice said behind them. Graff was standing there, looking around the cafeteria. Ilius stood up, ready to be fired at again. Graff looked down at him.

"How are you holding up, soldier?" He asked.

Ilius looked around with his eyes, not sure what how to reply to question. "Holding up as well as I can…sir."

"Good."

Ilius waited. It seemed like Graff had something else to say. What he wanted to know was why Graff was looking out for him so much. He didn't do so much with the others, but why to him?

"I don't want you hurting any of the others up here, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Ilius replied. "I understand."

"That means you keep your anger under control or find yourself in quarantine."

Ilius blinked. He didn't realize he hurt others out of his own anger. And being in quarantine wasn't going to make the best of his time up here. "Yes, sir."

"Her name's Petra Arkanian. You'll meet her soon enough when you're put into an army. I would suggest you stay out of her way."

Graff nodded and left, not glancing back towards him. Ilius sat back down a little uneasy and slightly homesick.

"Hey Ilius, that was a cool thing you did on the ship."

Ilius looked at Alan. He stared down at his food. "I just wanted to say that, if you didn't mind. I think you actually have what it takes to beat those aliens."

"Thanks," Ilius muttered back, even though that wasn't what he wanted to say.

"You know, I didn't know she was a girl at first. She really does look like a boy."

"What's your colors?"

"RED, BROWN, RED!"

"Again…"

"RED, BROWN, RED!"

"Don't forget it. It's you path back to the barracks if you haven't figured that out, yet."

Ilius watched Dap talk like the rest of them. He was looking, but not necessarily listening, or hearing for that matter. He looked at the scars on his hands, suddenly thinking about his younger sister, Lyra. He wished he was home, but he didn't want to go through that whole fighting ideal again. He belonged here, and he was going to stay. At least, he thought he belonged here. He wasn't up to full idea of fighting yet. Fighting all those aliens with other kids his age. He wasn't up to it, not yet.

"I heard you could tear kids apart with you bare hands,"

Ilius closed his hands and looked at Dap, who was standing there, asking a question while Ilius thought about aliens. He looked at Dap, but didn't answer.

"He's crazy!" Someone shouted.

"Shut up!" Alan shouted back.

"I don't tear other people apart," Ilius replied. "I don't do that kind of stuff. I don't even like fighting."

"If you don't like fighting, you should go home," Dap said. Ilius shook his head.

"I can't go home."

"You're right you can't."

"I belong here."

"So you hurt people."

"Yes."

"You tear them apart."

"No."

"You tear them apart…mentally."

Ilius started at him. He wasn't the type of person he should be talking to, but if that was the case, no one in this bowl was safe to talk to except a few chosen, and those were even hard to find. Dap walked away.

"Alright, who's ready to play some games?" Cheers sounded through the barracks.

Games? Ilius thought. We're supposed to be training to fight off these aliens, and we're going to play games?