A/N: Ok, I think I've mentioned this in other fic's, but I really hate the new set up (spaces between paragraphs, not being able to put in the extra space between scenes and not being able to use symbols such as the asterix etc) so, I've used (-) - one of the few symbols to go through - to break up the scenes.

Chapter Four

Of the thousands of seats arranged in row upon row, there was only one to be empty. One specifically for him. Glancing around, the occupants of the filled seats stared at him. Some in disdain, others in boredom, but a great many of them stared at him in fear. Word had gotten around, and it wouldn't be long till everyone had heard of what he'd done to Troy. A light blinked in the distance and a voice boomed out through speakers, "Hunter Correlli: section five, row eighty-six, seat number nine." The directions didn't come again. As he made his way to his seat, he could feel the glares burning his back – it wasn't a comfortable feeling – none met his eye.

His seat was not hard to find, especially with the light beacon flashing until he activated the buckles that fastened him in. The two boys on either side of him had avoided contact and had pulled away when he had accidentally brushed against them.

Hunter offered them a weak smile, just to prove that he wasn't an ogre, but if they saw it, they never returned the gesture. If anything, their scowls deepened. Hunter sighed and settled in for the trip, his frame felt cramped in the seats; although small and compact, he obviously was still larger than the average kid. He was set apart, but it hadn't always been that way. Far from it, but that was all before his father had come into the picture...and now he remembered.

-

"After that incident I'm surprised you didn't send him earthside."

"One thing you'll notice about me is that I see things that the others don't in kids," Marcus replied coolly.

Lieutenant Crag sniffed and looked down his long hook nose at Marcus's holographic image, "If anyone gets hurt up there they come back – you know the rules...hell, you wrote the rules!"

Marcus laughed outright at this, "Of course I did, I wrote them so I could break them."

"The boy."

"Hunter."

"Yes, of course. What happened to his friend? That other fellow."

"Toren."

"That's the one."

"I don't know, but I suspect that Hunter didn't approve of him."

A long pause ensued then Crag sighed, "Next time something like this happens, your going to have to send him back, he'll be endangering the others. The mail censors can't block everything the kids say out and something's going slip."

"Of couse."

-

Hunter felt the rumbling of the jets through his entire body, but other than that small tell tale sign, nothing else proved that they were actually moving. He didn't understand why they were required to be belted in. In fact, even the rumbling seemed to disappear after a time. It came apparent only when Hunter noticed his straps floating about – there was no gravity.

The trip was short, but that didn't tell how much distance they'd covered. No one ever told any one the whereabouts of the IBS. And if anyone did find out where it was located, they were often found and dealt with – quietly.

"Now approaching the IBS."

Hunter watched as some kids began to squirm in their seats, this was it. The beginning of the road to fame, for that's what they all thought this was. A game to become a famous warrior of space. The boy next to him, who in his excitement forgot who Hunter was and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Aren't you excited?"

Hunter looked and saw the innocence of childhood still lingering in the boy's clear eyes. The kid was pudgy and had round cheeks; he'd never been hungry, nor forgotten by his family. "No."

The boy's face fell slightly, eager as he was to find someone to share his enthusiasm with, he asked, "Why not? Everybody else is."

Smirking, Hunter replied, "I'm not everybody else."

Watching the reaction on the boy's face, Hunter almost felt like a bully. He was so much older and bigger than these kids. His emotions were more developed as was his mind and body. They were so much different from him. Innocent. As he'd once been. Fists clenching and body tensing, Hunter allowed a little anger to ignite within. Innocence, something that even a boy his age should still have some of. He'd been robbed of it. His father, his given-father, his guardian – Howard, had taken it. What had changed him? He needed answers.

Breaking his thoughts, the boy sneered, "No, you're not. You're the 'hunter' and we're the 'prey'. You really are a freak." Ah, not so innocent as he'd thought. Just as sharp as he was.

"You got it." He didn't bother to explain that those words were not his own.

Another announcement came through, "The Atrox is now hooked with the IBS." Rising cheers greeted this announcement. The telling click of harnesses disconnecting washed over Hunter as he felt the pressure ease across his chest. Pushing the harness away from his body, Hunter pulled himself from his seat and made his way slowly towards the exits plainly marked. The others made a mad dash for them, impatient to get onto the IBS.

Atrox, that must be the name of the ship, Hunter thought it an odd name for them to choose. Its meaning was not, in the kindest words, in the favour of humanity. Terrible.

He smirked, his difference in age from the others was showing, where they rushed to exit, he walked slowly, but with confidence. Those behind him, noticed his control over emotions and attempted to copy him, but their excitement was too much contain and the ended up doing a sort of skip where they had a few slow steps interrupted by one or two quick steps.

The magnitude of the structure Hunter walked into didn't show, low ceilings made up every corridor. Despite the rumours that it was over twice the size of the original Battle Station, you certainly couldn't see that from the inside. Kids crowded one another in the eagerness to claim a room for them and their friends, sprinting down the corridors in attempt to find an unclaimed room. Obviously there had been another ship load of kids earlier, not many rooms were completely unoccupied.

Hunter mentally shook his head at their folly, it was a stupid notion to make attachments to anyone in this stage of the game. For in this game, the players had still yet to be chosen, no person was yet given a guaranteed position here on the IBS. They had to be tested.

Pushing from behind, Hunter was rushed along with the flow of the crowd. In this aspect alone, Hunter decided that the architects of this structure were fools for not preparing halls for a bunch of enthusiastic kids. They were too narrow for the masses. Manoeuvring through the kids till he'd reached the edge, Hunter ducked into the first room door way he came to, uncaring whether or not he was welcome.

Eyes darted up from their games of Choka, a dice game, and inspected the new comer. Yes, there was definitely a ship that had previously docked here. These kids were more adapted, more comfortable with their environment and definitely lacking the excitement the others just outside the door had.

Nodding to those who met his eyes, Hunter stood awkwardly for a moment then made to the back to the room. He had almost made it too, when a hand stalled him.

"Hold it."

Hunter eyed the hand, then followed it up to the face. "If you want my name, just ask."

The boy raised a brow in question.

"Hunter."

"That you're real name or just a new name you made up to sound tough."

"My real one."

The boy smiled, almost a pretty smile but for the two missing front teeth. "Well I have a dull a name as you can get. Daryl." He held out his hand to shake Hunter's which he accepted graciously.

Another boy nearby snickered and stopped shaking the die he held in his hand, "That's Daryl, as in a girl named Daryl." The others laughed and nudged the speaker to throw the die.

Turning back to Daryl, it was Hunter's turn to raise a brow. Daryl grinned and winked, "Damn right I am." She shook her head to show her short locks that had led Hunter to his mistake. "But don't you worry, I'm tougher than grit, and I'm way better than these guys here too." When the others protested she shrugged, "Well don't deny it, I fought and beat you all at the arm wrestling for top bunk at the front."

Hunter snorted, but wisely refrained from saying anything.

The door slid open and a breathless boy staggered in. Hand to heart he exclaimed loudly, "Well hell, another ship came, and to say it politely, it's a real challenge just to get from the bloody bathrooms to here." He sighed and flopped on one of the beds closer to the front. Hunter was about to do the same on an empty bed when the boy opened continued, "Heard some mighty disturbing news though, apparently, one kid had a nasty fight."

"Aw Sean, give a hold on that lolling tongue of yours, you say that about every ship that has come in."

Propping his head on a hand, Sean replied seriously, "Yeah, well this time I'm not kidding."

"There's a rotter for every load that comes in."

Hunter quietly explored the shelves and cabinets assigned to him while listening to what was being said up front.

"I'm telling ya, more than half this load is terrified of him and the other part doesn't know what to think of him. If you ask me, this time it's for real. There's a psycho on board." It was obvious that Sean was deeply disturbed by this news.

"Oh for God's sake, just quit it, alright?"

"Listen, I don't want to be 'Ender Pulp.'" At the questioning glances he received, he gave an exasperated sigh and exclaimed, "Haven't you read the history of the original battle station? A lot of it's there, but you have to do a lot of rooting on the nets to get the facts straight. But Ender did a lot of damage. Killed a guy up here with his bare hands and other guy was bigger than Ender too!"

That got some respected silence until someone shouted out, "Well, did you catch a name this time to attach to this guy's face?"

Sean looked smug for a moment, "Yeah, actually I did. The name's Hunter Correlli." Flipping on his wrist computer he accessed a file and had it projected on the wall. Another moment passed while they studied the picture. "He ain't a tough looking guy really," Sean mused aloud, "but that don't mean nothing."

Daryl had already put A and B together and called to the back of the room where Hunter was sealing his outfit on. "Hey Hunter, what did you say your last name was?"

"I didn't."

"So what is it?"

Hunter contemplated telling them a lie, but then thought better of it. After all, how many 'Hunter's' could there be? Nodding towards the displayed picture of him, he said, "That's me." Startled gasps followed this revelation, but Daryl surprised him and snorted, "Aw come on, didn't you guys guess that already?"

Sean had sat up and peered down the dimly lit room to the back where Hunter was sitting, "Oh you've got to be kidding me! We've got that monster in here with us? He's going to slit our throats while we sleep, you mark my words!" Twisting the folded sheet in his hand, Sean worried at the material until it ripped. No one had argued what he'd said.

Clearing his throat, Hunter stood and stiffly faced the group, "If you're uncomfortable with my being here, I'll leave. It's easy enough." He waited for them to say something...anything, but nothing but the hum of distant machinery could be heard. Disappointment gnawed at his gut, he'd expected for Daryl to at least to stand up for him. But then, his mind hardening, they'd only met moments before. Her loyalty would lie with those she was most familiar with.

Teeth clenched, Hunter walked silently down the rows of bunks to the door. But it was different when he walked by these people. They didn't look away from him even when he met their questioning glances, surely that meant something.

"Hunter Correlli – we've got the Hunter Correlli in our room! Damn if the others won't be just envious of us!"

Hunter spun around to see if he could catch who'd said that, but it didn't matter, everyone was nodding in agreement. Even Sean, much to Hunter's amazement was nodding reflectively. Obviously, they were thinking of something that Hunter couldn't understand.

Daryl grinned that boyish grin of hers and pointed to the bed he'd just left, "Now get back to your post soldier, that's an order!" Hunter smiled and felt a great weight being lifted off his chest with the laughter that rose around him.

-

It would be hectic on the IBS for the first months, give or take a few. There would be a constant flow of incoming kids and outgoing. Marcus felt that in order to see the best traits and characteristics in kids was to put them in the real situation that they'd be learning in. And so, despite the millions it cost for every trip that brought another load of children to the IBS, he had a constant fifteen thousand living and learning under his control. They were to be the best of the best. He had time to be picky, after all, the Corvedics weren't coming for another century or so.

Those who were even slightly under the norm were sent home; a steady flow, much like the rivers on Earth that people were trying desperately hard to keep.

A beeping interrupted Marcus' thoughts and he dragged his eyes from the window that looked into the great expanse of space. Fingering the panel on his desk he answered crisply, "Yes?"

"Sending the daily learning books scores through."

"Excellent." Seating himself in the hard office chair that had been included in the office, Marcus tapped out a series of numbers that deactivated the security on his computer. Drawing up the charts, he waited while the teachers uploaded the statistics. Numbers bounced around as they were automatically compared and adjusted to the other classes. What it ended up showing him was a chart that showed the marks of every student in the IBS.

Studying the levels of scores, Marcus drew the averaging line and cut those who didn't make it. He grinned in satisfaction, the scores were beginning to level out. His hunting for the best was paying off.

"Are there any reports to make?"

A voice replied, "The usual, petty fights in the halls, arguments in classes. Usual things for normal children of this age."

Marcus wouldn't know, he didn't have kids and he avoided contact with them at all costs. He let his officials deal with the kids. "What about Hunter Correlli?"

"He's as normal as they get. You wouldn't even know him if it weren't for that incident on board the Atrox."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Can I ask why, sir?"

"He said something to one of the doctors, and I quote 'That is why I came – to fit in.' If that doesn't concern you, I don't know what does."

There was a pregnant silence, obviously considering his words, "Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean by that. Why should that concern you?"

"If he's trying to fit in, he's not trying to do his best. He'll be as inconspicuous as possible. Which means that he knows exactly what he's doing, he's blending in and in order to do that, means that he knows exactly how well people will do on a test and to do that means that you have to know everything on the test to choose which ones to get wrong or right. Do you see what I'm getting at now?"

"But then again, you could be just looking at it wrong. He could be just average – like everyone else."

"I doubt it very much."