Disclaimer: Aliens can't own Twilight.
10
Terra, London, 2620
Upon leaving Professor Khai's office – which was far too barren for her tastes – Astra releases a heavy sigh, leaning her body against the stairwell door. Gods, but did he have to be so…so confusing? So attractive? So emotionless? She felt as if she was being pulled in opposite directions, like her mind was playing tug-of-war with itself – she was attracted to him, she was irritated by him, he was exceptional, he was lacking. Astra didn't know which way to lean in her own mind, so she didn't take a side; how could she?
She did know that his spicy scent drove her mad. She hadn't been able to properly focus on it in Egypt – since she was being tackled – and she didn't remember last night – but today? His entire office was completely filled with it and she felt as if she now carried the scent on her and she wanted nothing more than to rub against him for a moment so that she really could carry his scent. The urge was downright primal and too disturbing for her to put much stock in, but it was there and Astra had never felt less human.
She bites her lower lip and straightens up. She had a class to get to – she really shouldn't be thinking about Khai.
Professor Khai. Lieutenant Commander Khai, she corrects herself. He was not a proper subject to concern herself with, even if he was all dark and broody and tall and strong and-
Right. Don't think about it. You don't even know him.
But she did know him, didn't she? She knew he did something illogical, knew that he wanted to help her with her meditation, knew he cared enough about her wellbeing to physically carry her to the infirmary. She saw past his Giidas exterior and the more she was seeing, the more she liked. Reluctantly.
Astra's cloak billows slightly behind her as she traipses down the stairs, her flat boots creating a hollow sound that matched the speed of her movements. She was on the basement level in little under two minutes, stepping into a large gym where most of the Cadets were dressed out of uniform. She curses in her mind – she hadn't thought about what to wear during a Combat class so she hadn't brought anything.
Thankfully, she spies a Replicator between the doors of the men and women locker rooms and quickly uses it. Astra dresses quickly in the reinforced black tights and dark green regulation shirt, lamenting at the shirt's too-big size, before dashing out of the locker room to join the other Cadets in Gym 3. She feels naked without her cloak.
Most of the other Cadets in her class are Terran, except for, most notably, the Me'atal male standing behind the Terran instructor
Me'atals, while part of the Federation, are a bit shady by nature; they keep their secrets and are prone to attack without warning or apology. Since the beginning of the Federation, Me'atals had been the rein of military weaponry; they invented, wielded, and taught everything there was to know about specialized weapons.
As a race with no God or religion, the Me'atals were typically viewed as cold-blooded killers who stood alongside with the good guys.
Astra didn't believe it for a second – sure, Me'atals could be a tad too blunt and maybe a bit too cold, but no more than a Giidas. And she believed that Me'atal moods mostly came from the fact that their planet was literally made of ice and snow and metal; all of that cold was bound to affect someone, even an alien.
Astra always found the Me'atals interesting – their physiology was unique in a way that no other race could be. The Me'atals, over time, had adopted the metal their planet was famous for and integrated it into their bodies; their bones were made of metal; their exposed joints were made of metal; and fine slivers of metal were exposed on their skin, significant signs of individuality in a race that was both fair skinned and fair-haired.
The Me'atal standing behind her Hand Combat instructor was, specifically, the most attractive Me'atal Astra had ever seen. Snow-pale skin, ashen blonde hair falling jaggedly around his face, square cut jaw, angular nose, thin lips, calm iridescent blue eyes. Faint glinting of silver scripture creates two straight lines over his eyes, like eyebrows, and his exposed arms were riddled with Me'atal markings of metal peeking through his skin. His build is more bulky than Khai's, only slightly, and he is a few inches shorter, at least; his arms are crossed over his chest and his curved fingers are cut with exposed metal knuckles. His expression was stoic.
The bulky Terran instructor began demonstrating a maneuver that looked simple enough to Astra's untrained eye. "Turn your arms like this, grab your opponents wrist and twist," he says brutally, a wicked, almost sadist grin on his face. "Ja'asper will demonstrate with me."
The Me'atal male moves forward quickly, movements swift and graceful – he is Ja'asper and he stands in front of the instructor. Without preamble, the Terran instructor attacks, lunging at Ja'asper's back; almost on reflex, Ja'asper performs the maneuver the instructor just demonstrated, flipping the instructor on his back.
The instructor laughs. "That is how it's done, Cadets."
Ja'asper steps back, arms once again crossed over his chest.
Astra was impressed – excited, really. It looked so easy. While her only athleticism, this far, was running very quickly, she was certain that this Hand Combat class would be interesting to say in the least. She was looking forward to it.
The instructor proceeds to break down the maneuver for a few more minutes before encouraging the class to pair up and "kick each others ass".
Astra grinned. It sounded like fun.
Just as she was about to turn to one of the Cadets beside her, the instructor gruffly says, "Everyone but you, Cadet."
Astra furrows her brows. "I'm sorry?"
"We have to place you, first," the instructor grins. "I'm Sergeant Dmitri and this is my class aid, Ja'asper. We've got to place you in a weight class for training purposes – don't want you breaking your neck, now do we, little lady?"
Astra twists her lips at Sergeant Dmitri. "No, we don't want that."
"Excellent. If you'll follow Ja'asper, he'll get you weighed and measured and see how much you can lift and throw, that sort of thing. By this time tomorrow, you'll be able to participate in class. Sound good?"
Astra nods and follows Ja'asper. He is very quiet as she takes her height and weight, scribing the numbers on a pocket-com, before leading her into a very complicated weight room. She was sure half of the weights were for alien usage only, because she wasn't sure if any Terran would ever be able to lift something with such an odd mass. Ja'asper silently lead her over to a simple weight bench, attaching five pound weights on either side of the bar.
"I can lift more than that," she tells him quickly, a little insulted.
Ja'asper raises one of his metal-tattoo brows. "Can you? I don't think it would be wise to lift so much so soon."
"I am not weak. I can lift more than that," she insists, taking two twenty pound weights and adding them onto the bar.
Ja'asper looks skeptical. "You'll harm yourself to make a point?"
"Females are not weaker than males," she tells him hotly. "I don't care if it's physiologically true, I know females are just as strong as males, regardless of species. I can hold my own."
"Fine, then. The purpose of this test is to see your endurance and how much you can lift over time. If you want to jump in the middle, go ahead."
Astra's face heats up – she reacted rashly. Of course they would want to test gradually to gauge endurance, too.
For the sake of her pride, Astra was too stubborn to back out.
Still, she was confident in her ability, even if she had never done this before. Carefully, she sits down, ducks her head beneath the bar and adjusts her back comfortably; her hands firmly wrap around the textured part of the metal bar and she exhales, lifting the weight easily. The bar lowers almost to her chest and she lifts it back up, repeating this several times, almost smug by how easy it is.
"Stop. Let me add more weight."
And the cycle continues, Ja'asper growing more intrigued until Astra reaches a limit that is almost unbelievable, given her weight, height and size – and the fact that she is reported as Terran. While he marvels over the numbers he enters into the pocket-com, Astra, almost gloatingly, grins.
Her face remains alight with a wry smile as Ja'asper times her running laps – this, she knows, is impressive. Astra's body, though growing weary from physical activity that she is not familiar with, is thrumming with energy; she feels like she could run all day, go back and lift weights, then throw her burly instructor over her head and still finish her homework. It's almost as if her body is thriving off the physical exertion.
And I never considered myself an athletic person? The thought made her laugh.
"Something funny, Cadet?" Ja'asper inquires blandly, looking up from the timer on his pocket-com while Astra performs chin-ups with relative ease. He found her athleticism, as a Terran, mighty odd.
It was almost alien – though, perhaps he was underestimating Terrans. His pride was intact enough for him to realize that at twenty-seven and as a visiting aid for Dmitri he was prone to assumption. Perhaps too inclined to assume.
"That's enough," he says finally. "I have enough information to place you in a weight class, though your physical weight has absolutely nothing to do with it."
Astra drops onto the ground, landing on the balls of her feet gracefully. "Oh, yeah? Where do I get to be?"
Ja'asper's glowing blue eyes, light as ice, stare her down. "I'm placing you in weight class D."
Astra frowns. "Not A?"
"A would have been beneath your potential. Weight class D is assigned to Cadets of your caliber," he tells her, closing down the pocket-com. No need to tell the Terran girl that weight class D is specifically for aliens. She'll figure that out eventually.
The girl smiles, one side of her mouth quirked higher than the opposite side. "So class D is better."
"More challenging," he says diplomatically, even though, for class rankings, D was better overall since it was much harder to get into.
He eyes the girl for a moment. Slender but not without curves; toned but still rather lean; average height of five foot seven inches for a Terran female. Her file claimed she was Terran and he had no reason to doubt that, aside from her physical capabilities.
"When do I get to be challenged, then?"
Ja'asper shifts. "As there are no D class students as of right now, your sparring partner will be me. And I assure you, that will be a challenge."
For a moment, Astra feels a flare of intimidation. Ja'asper wasn't huge or anything, but he carried himself with the wisdom of a warrior who had seen battle – which, of course, made sense given he was Me'atal. Still, he was imposing and she had a feeling he would be ruthless.
As quickly as the spike of intimidation appears, it is doused by Astra's own confidence. She'd made it into a high weight class without even trying, really. Surely she could handle whatever Ja'asper threw her way.
Hand Combat class had officially been over for fifteen minutes, so Ja'asper dismisses her to the locker rooms. She has a sonic-shower, changes back into her own clothes and carries her newly Replicated gym clothes out with her, intent on Replicating a bag of some sort to carry with her from now on.
To her surprise, Sergeant Dmitri and Ja'asper are standing several feet away from the locker room doors and stop talking when she steps out. They were waiting for me, then.
Sergeant Dmitri, furrows his brows at her, managing to look menacing instead of curious. "What track are you on, again? I forget the shit I read half the time."
"Xenolinguistic," she answers promptly.
Sergeant Dmitri grins, elbows Ja'asper lightly. "Now that's certainly a surprise, little lady. A D class xenolinguist. Very impressive. Sure you're on the right track? We could use someone like you in Command."
Astra shakes her head quickly. No, she didn't want to lead anyone. "I'm better with languages than gym, I promise."
"I find that hard to believe," he replies lightly. "It's very rare to have truly exceptional Cadets. I trust you'll let me know if you ever change your mind?"
"You'll be the first," she tells him, fully intent on not changing her career path.
Sergeant Dmitri smiles widely again. "Great. Now, get out of here and get something to eat. You'll need that energy, right Ja'asper?"
Ja'asper nods, eyes sharp. "I suggest you eat a very large breakfast tomorrow. Skip lunch."
Sergeant Dmitri laughs. "Already got a plan for her, huh?"
Ja'asper shrugs one shoulder. "She still has catching up to do before she can join the rest of the class. I intend for her to be ready to start with you next Monday, Dmitri."
"I'll hold you to that," the Sergeant says. "Both of you."
*N*O*V*A*
Friday night, Astra sits crossed-legged on her gel-bed, clothed in a simple white sleeping gown, Nanini's book in her lap. She hadn't had the chance to open the book since arriving at the Federation Academy – everyday had been filled with homework, tutoring from her helpful roommates, getting her ass kicked by Ja'asper, who didn't believe in "going easy" on her, and carefully avoiding Khai's blandly inquisitive gaze.
Gods, but did he look at her like she was a mystery? Astra couldn't decide if she should be flattered or concerned over his apparent…fascination. The short breaks between her Xenolinguistics class and her Phonology class were filled with the impassive gaze of the Lieutenant Commandeer. She didn't know what to think. Why was he looking at her? She had assumed, the first time, that his eyes just naturally fell to her seat, so she moved between class breaks; his eyes followed her and she concluded that he was looking at her.
As she couldn't make sense of it, Astra didn't bother to think about it very much. Only when she was alone at night, exhausted from the day and unable to stop her thoughts of wandering as she fell into dreamless sleep did her thoughts trail to Khai. It was the only concession she could allow.
He was too confusing for deep thought.
Aside from Professor Khai's classes, her days were filled with genuinely hard mental and physical work. She missed playing her li'lute for hours – instead, that time was dedicated to figuring out what exactly made the array coils work in her engineering class. Thankfully, her requirement for engineering and computer science was limited; she only needed to know how to repair a communications system on-ship and she was well on her way of understanding that thanks to Rosy and Mari'Ahlice.
Astra sighs, her head bowing down towards Nanini's book, recalling the last time she opened it – perhaps a year ago, somewhere in South Asia. She was too tired to remember.
The book was very important to Astra; it was part ancient language guide, part scrapbook. She flips it open, smiling softly at Nanini's crinkled face. The picture – not a holo, but a picture – was taken right before Nanini passed away. This was the day that Nanini gifted Astra with the old book and asked her to read the passages.
That day, Astra learned three languages.
She withstood the repercussions of such an act with admiral stoicism.
"I hope you're proud of me, Nanini," she whispers to the picture. "You always said I was made for the stars. I'm trying to get there."
Astra's body ached – the cockiness she developed from Monday was shot down quickly by Ja'asper the following day. He was serious about Astra catching up to her classmates. She supposed it was fortunate that she learned quickly, because she wasn't sure her Terran body could take another full-body slam.
Part of her thought Ja'asper was doing it on purpose, trying to shape her character enough so that she wouldn't ever get cocky about combat again.
She thought he was succeeding quite well, if the bruises scattered on her body held any merit. Which, they did. Truly.
Astra flips to the next page. Arabic. She liked the sound the language made, liked how it felt on her tongue, even if the countries that spoke it were too hot for her tastes.
She flips to a random page, coming across a picture of her from childhood. She hadn't changed much – still very pale, same freckles, long hair. The only sign of maturity she carried now was the fact that her exotically tilted eyes now matched her face. And that her teeth had straightened out. A lot. Her childhood picture is squished between German and the dialect of Austria pages.
She looks at Old Norse next. Though Nanini was Greek, as a gypsy, she knew a lot about the ancient pagan religions. Astra especially liked the Norse Gods Odin and Thor; she found their stories compelling and, when she was much younger, had asked to hear stories about them.
Astra feels the scrunch of her brows and closes the book firmly. Why am I even looking at this? I know all of these languages by heart. All of these pictures are in my mind.
She supposes that she feels a bit sentimental. Her eighteenth birthday was a few months off and she was missing Nanini's warm presence fiercely.
Astra smiles faintly. "I bet you would tell me to prove all of these Cadets wrong," she says to the air.
Though her roommates were extraordinarily welcoming – which probably had something to do with Mari'Ahlice's religion more than anything else – other Cadets had not been so kind. Many were offended by her age, especially since more than half of them were well into their twenties. The other half are off-worlders who were put off by how well she was adapting – apparently they didn't fall into the Academy groove so easily.
Many probably didn't understand that, as a gypsy, Astra was no novice to adaptation – crossing country boarders at a moment's notice will do that to a person. She'd been in London before, briefly, she spoke the language well and the weather was agreeable enough. Even being in a school for the first time in her life was relatively easy to cope with.
Despite that, other Cadets were taking notice of her youth and not in a good way. She decided that it was a good thing Ja'asper was the only sparring opponent she could have, because of few of the male Cadets looked rather anxious to show her how proficient they are.
Astra shakes her head, dismissing those thoughts. If someone wanted to challenge her, then she would take the challenge, but she wouldn't go walking around looking for one or expecting one.
She stands, places Nanini's book on the right shelf and shuts off the lights to her room.
The gel-bed is cool beneath her warmer skin and comfortable. Settling on her back, Astra closes her eyes.
Hopefully by this time tomorrow, she would be able to end her nights with a proper meditation, because even a Terran like her could feel her spiking brainwaves.
And that was most worrying.
A/N: The latest installment! Important chapter!
Shout out to the first 10 reviews of the last chapter –
Dinotopian – your welcome!
Leslie E – yes! Al will be revealed in due time!
JadeHeartEmm – Good guess! But no illicit affairs in this fic!
Maggiejoma – Glad you're loving it!
Valentine Rain – Bad moody 'net!
Debslmac - :D
HarbouringLies – Awesome is what I aim for!
Siobhan Whitlock – Gosh, now I have to see that movie! I might be overworking myself a little – but I'm taking breaks from updating all the time this week! Promise!
james3142 – Damn you're so close! Like, right on the edge, except for one little detail!
Darcyfan14 – Hmmm, are they?
FLOW LIZ – I love this one too!
YesMyRealNameIsBella – Hm, Ed'vard Sr. did have a little something to do with it….
That'snotmyname69 – Don't stay up too late!
LunaDiSangue85 – Yeah, Khai, go to the dark side!
ParasiteGoddess – Yesss, lots and lots of kisses!
vampyregirl86 – Oh, I do so love torturing them!
Pumpkinmykitty – Nope, she's not another alien, too! Lol
lizakimiko – Good question! Because Khai suppresses his emotions so much, his eyes are almost constantly on his neutral steel color; when he feels a particularly strong emotion, we might see a tinge of color. Astra, on the other hand, has a neutral whispy-grey color and when she feels a strong emotion, her eyes completely turn the color that emotion, and then revert back when she's over the emotion. Khai's eyes will constantly be steel (or steel with tinge-color) because of his repression.
Super special shout out to the first review of the last chapter – Twilight Rocker 12 - I love his name too! lol I just sighhhh it out. Nice and easy!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot