Huh. So I tried to post this chapter last week but for some reason it posted in code format? (Massive shoutout to thefangirlthatwon'tshutup for bringing that to my attention!) I'm hoping this one works...
"Sky!" I whirl at the shout from behind me. I find myself face to face with Elliot Ramirez, whose face is currently a curious mix of guilty and amused. He continues, "Ok, so don't kill me, but...well...you may have just become the joke of a group of plebes."
I groan. Elliot is exponentially smarter than the airheaded cyborg he plays onscreen, but sometimes he acts a little too close to that persona for comfort. "Out with it," I demand.
He stumbles over his words. "So my Applied Sims group was hunting as a wolf pack-" here, I start bracing for the forthcoming "Wolf" joke. After all, that sim was why I'd chosen it as my call sign, and someone was bound to make the connection eventually. "-and, well here, I'll show you."
We both close our eyes, and I reach just far enough into his neural processor to retrieve the memory he's just pushed to the front of his brain (I have no desire to explore the rest, believe me). Then I watch as the scene plays out.
They're all sitting on the cots, discussing the simulation they've just run. Evidently, some guy messed up and is now being talked to in a stern manner, which I guess is the Ramirez version of yelling.
"Tell me then," Elliot is saying. "What do you call a lone wolf that doesn't work with the pack?"
From the mischief that twists its way across the boy's face, I'm definitely expecting a smart-aleck answer. Well, I guess that's what I got.
"I'd call that Skylar Kaynes in the last Mars battle." And there's the obligatory Wolf joke. Still, not bad. It was just a dumb reference to a battle where I'd somehow ended up taking on half the Russo-Chinese fleet solo.
And then Elliot opens his mouth. "Very clever," he says, definitely overdoing the sarcasm. Part of me thinks it's almost hilarious, seeing one of the most composed people on earth so flustered. The other part is just thinking, oh god, please stop talking, you moron. "Making an obvious joke out of a call sign. If you had actually been paying attention to the fight, you would know that Skylar actually got closer to Medusa that battle than most of us ever have."
"Defensive, much?" Someone on the other side of the circle snickers. A couple "ooh"s raise themselves around the room and I roll my eyes.
A plebe with hair so red it's almost orange says, "Hey, if you're Ares, wouldn't that make her Aphrodite?" I don't even have time to marvel at his apparently fluent knowledge of Greek mythology, I'm so busy plotting his imminent doom.
The memory fades out as the group erupts in laughter. When I open my eyes, Elliot is examining his boots in great detail.
"Real smooth job playing that one off, war god." I almost laugh at the embarrassment plain on his face, an expression which I doubt is familiar to his legions of adoring fangirls. Actually, they'd probably think it was adorable. I'm caught halfway between thinking it's kind of cute and thinking he's a complete and utter idiot. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go murder some plebes. Come with?"
He grins. "Oh yeah, that'd look great on the broadcasts, 'and in other news, the public face of the Intrasolar Forces was charged with aiding and abetting the murder of defenseless trainees.'"
"So is that a yes?"
"Did you see how stupid I looked? Hell yes, I'm in."
But then our evil schemes are interrupted by the message warning me we're about to be late for Programming. Still laughing a little, I start to run. No one ever said being a Combatant is never fun.
Hope you enjoyed the cuteness, because with only 2 chapters left it's time for things to go wrong.
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