The Lima is daunting.

It's so different from the Academy, big but cramped and full of towering bulky marines, and Ela Rodriguez feels completely lost. Desperately, she yearns for the familiarity, the safety of the old days... but Miss Sanders and everyone else stayed on the Citadel, and now it's just her and the other kids, and Miss Nought.

Miss Nought, though, never has to step aside for the marines in the corridor, they step aside for her.

When she's not around, the kids mostly stick to their quarters, or to each other.

The mess hall is the worst, the line between 'us' and 'them' clearly drawn, with all the looks and remarks, and Ela's stomach is so constricted that she could barely digest a thing even if the food was not so unappetizing. Remembering Mrs Klostermann's desserts, she drives her spoon into the unidentifiable mass on her plate, when, suddenly, the skin on her neck pricks: someone is approaching from behind. Her chair squeaks as a marine leans on its back, over her and Yan.

"So, what's your name, baby doll?" he asks, closing in.

"Leave her alone," Jason intervenes but the marine barely spares him a glance: a pup against a man, no match.

"Just getting acquainted," he grins, drawing his mass even closer, his hand, heavy, resting on Ela's shoulder -

The next thing she knows, she is standing and the marine is sprawled a few metres away, among cups and plates and overturned chairs; her corona is still glowing, the dark energy flowing through her, crackling around her fingertips. "The last guy who tried to grab me had his head smashed like a mellon," she hears herself say, and the first time since, the memory of the red pool spreading under the black helmet doesn't fill her with revulsion. The monster is gone, and that is what matters.

After a moment of stunned silence, some marines start rising from their chairs, their knocked comrade is sitting up, shaking his head in bafflement, his face contorting in fury -

"'The hell is going on here?" The man in the doorway speaks in a seemingly leisured tone but Rodriguez can sense the air of authority, and menace.

"Nothing, Sarge," replies a petite marine with a sharp nose in her dark face, with an equally false leisure. "Kennedy just slipped on some coffee, is all." Unphased by a piercing look, she turns to the man on the floor. "Must have wiped it with his ass, right?"

The Sergeant's green eyes slowly move from face to face until they centre on Ela. Heat rushes into her face and she cannot breathe.

"What she said, Sir," Yan pipes in beside her. "It was an accident."

"Right," confirms another marine behind them. "Right, Kennedy? Only an idiot would start something with biotics, right?"

"Right," the man mutters finally. "An accident."

"An accident." The Sergeant folds his arms on his chest. "Ten more rounds in the training, Kennedy. We can't have our marines so sloppy. And clear away the mess."

When the Sergeant leaves, the mess hall collectively breathes out.

"Never mind Forge," says the sharp-nosed marine, "he's a tough son of a bitch but he's alright. - By the way, the name's Dodger, Elissa."

"Rodriguez. Ela." Still dazed, she mechanically shakes the offered hand. Yan's jubilant face is floating before her eyes, and Jason's, and another marine is congratulating her on a nice job... and behind them, where Sergeant Forge had stood, there is now Miss Nought, smiling and nodding approvingly.