"Come on, Lieutenant, you have to do it! For the good of the company!"

Hannah sighed loudly, slammed the door to her locker and shot an annoyed glance at the soldier that stood next her. "I don't do competitions!" she exclaimed.

Another soldier, leaning on his own locker directly across from hers, spoke up. "It's just one time, Red. Brody's right. You have to do it."

Hannah pointed a finger at the soldier who had just spoken. "Lucas, I swear, if you call me Red again…"

Lucas held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Just slipped out, I promise."

"Uh huh. Right." Hannah's tone revealed her disbelief in Lucas' excuse.

Hannah heard a deep female voice whose accent revealed her African ancestry add her own two cents to the exchange. "You have to do it because they said you would."

"What? You told who I would?"

Brody ran a hand through his dark hair and his blue eyes darted to the left. Lucas opened his locker again, even though he'd already finished and shut it minutes ago. He picked up a comb inside the locker and started to mess with his own muddy brown hair. The female soldier who'd spoken out last took a position next to Hannah, eyeing her meaningfully.

"All right, boys," Hannah called out, emphasizing the last word to indicate the infantile nature of her fellow soldiers, "Stop preening and speak straight with me or I'll beat the crap out of you both again."

Lucas put down the comb and turned, but his gaze was directed to the other woman solider. "Riley, we told you it was better not to mention that part."

"Veracity is one of the character traits we've been told to uphold, is it not?" Riley returned, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Who did you tell?" Hannah repeated.

"Look," Brody expounded, his eyes turned back to Hannah, pleading with her. "This guy was just bragging, you know, saying how Alpha Company was first in everything." He paused.

Riley did Brody the courtesy of throwing him under the bus. "And then Brody said they couldn't be first in sharpshooting because we had the number one sharpshooter in the galaxy."

"You said that?" Hannah almost screamed.

"Red, we couldn't let him put down the Hawk," Lucas explained, referring to his company by its nickname. Hannah raised a fist and Lucas hurriedly backpedaled. "Hannah, I mean, Lieutenant, not Red, sorry."

Riley concluded the exposition of the challenge during the companies' combined mess, Hannah having been absent due to her duty roster. "Then the guy from Alpha Company dared them to produce this sharpshooter as he was the number one sharpshooter in the entire Alliance and could beat their sharpshooter's ass back to basic training. And Brody said he'd see the guy over here at 0700 and the Hawk would shove his arrogant ass out an airlock when he lost against our sharpshooter."

"So, you basically hung the Hawk's reputation on my sharpshooting skill? Great."

"But you're the best, Lieutenant, really. This guy's a chump. You've got to kick him where it hurts." Hannah looked exasperatedly at Brody, who explained what he meant. "You know, not literally, just figuratively. Give his manhood a little dressing down."

"That sounds even worse, Ensign," Hannah informed Brody.

"You do have to do it." Hannah was surprised to hear Riley speak up and take Brody and Lucas' side. She turned her eyes on the woman standing straight and tall, her hands now behind her back.

"You, too?"

Riley nodded slightly. "It is for the glory of the Hawk. You have told us on many occasions that the Hawk's reputation should be our foremost concern."

Hannah shook her head. She was backed into a corner and she knew it. "Fine. I'll do it."

Brody whooped and stood up, punching the air. Lucas grinned like a well fed puppy dog.

"But," Hannah added, her pointer finger indicating Brody, then Lucas, "If I lose and the Hawk's reputation is tarnished because of you two, I'll have an appointment with you both in the combat room. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Brody saluted.

Lucas also saluted. "But you won't lose, ma'am."

Hannah sighed. "Dismissed," she said, waving the three away with her hand. They departed, Brody and Lucas eagerly discussing the upcoming competition and Riley following behind them saying nothing, but both her ears in the discussion.

Hannah turned back to her locker and opened it again. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror attached to the inside of the door. Her hair was pulled back tight into a short red ponytail. She was off duty, so she wore only a sleeveless black shirt and her navy blue pants. She rubbed a hand over her hazel eyes, willing away the fatigue of a long day. She reached into her locker and pulled out her data pad, flicking it on. The latest e-mail from her parents still glowed from its screen: We're so proud of you. Your lifetime has seen so much and you're right on the edge of it. Remember to write when you can. We miss you. Hannah read the message again, then tabbed over to the news. The first article title caught her attention: "Progress Reported on the Construction of Arcturus Station." Yes, she really was on the edge of change. Arcturus Station floated maybe half a kilometer outside the hull of her ship. Every time she got a chance to look at it, she did, peering at humanity's future.

Hannah looked up from the data pad and her gaze landed on her marksman rifle, her own personal weapon she'd received in honor of her skill. She took a deep breath, reached in and pulled it out, then closed the locker door, heading to the shooting range. She knew she was good, but it didn't hurt to get some more practice in, just to make sure she could win this thing tomorrow.

Next morning, the shooting range was so crowded with off duty soldiers from the Hawk and Alpha Company that Hannah almost beat a retreat back to her bunk at the sight of it. As always, these competitions between companies had turned into a regular chest pounding exercise. This was the part she hated about the military: the boastful talk that came along with "playing with the boys." Hannah didn't need to waste time puffing her chest out to prove something. In fact, she didn't know one female soldier who did need to. As Hannah stood near the range, steeling herself to go inside, a distinct picture formed in her mind: she remembered back in Michigan, in the spring, when the birds started to mate, the male birds strutted around, flapping wings and dancing, trying to get the females to notice. She'd never seen one female bird respond. The females went right on catching their worms for dinner and ignored the ridiculous male birds. As Hannah looked at the shooting range, she realized most of the soldiers in there were definitely male birds.

Hannah took a breath and walked to the entrance of the range. Brody was waiting for her. He took up a shout as she arrived and all the other soldiers from the Hawk joined in, resulting in a whole lot of caterwauling and boos in return from Alpha Company. Hannah followed Brody to her position at the shooting range.

"Where's my competition?" she asked, scanning the room.

"Down there," Brody pointed.

Hannah couldn't see him clearly for all the men surrounding him, patting him on the back and psyching him up for the contest. She could tell he was tall and that was about it. She didn't care what he looked like. She just wanted to do this thing and get it over with. She turned back to prep her rifle.

"Just take your time," Brody told her. "Don't shoot too quickly. Line it up, take a breath and shoot."

Hannah cocked her head and sent an annoyed looked at the Ensign. "I've been doing this for three years. I've got it down."

"I know, yeah," Brody answered, trying to sound confident. "Just making sure."

"You're trying to calm your own nerves, no matter how much bravado you throw at me," Hannah retorted.

Brody looked chagrinned. "I just don't want you to think I don't think you can do this. I know you can, but…we can't lose."

Hannah smiled assuredly. "Don't worry. We will throw his ass out an airlock."

Brody grinned at her and clapped her on the back, then removed his hand abruptly when she shot him another glare. Hannah was mostly friendly, but he remembered she didn't take kindly to shows of affection that broke the chain of command. He gave her a thumbs up and moved to the side to get out of the way.

Hannah finished preparing her rifle, then glanced once more down the lanes. Now she definitely couldn't get a glimpse of her adversary. He already stood inside one of the range lanes, hidden by the dividers. He occupied lane two, she occupied lane eight. She figured they had been positioned far apart to allow room for each company to fill its own champion's side. She turned her attention back to her rifle, picked it up for a second and traced the line of sight to the target. She placed the rifle back down and put on her suppressor ear muffs, waiting for the signal to shoot. Hannah relaxed in the muted silence afforded through the ear muffs. The pressure of the moment dissolved away. She entered her own world—just herself, her rifle, and the target.

As the Hawk was hosting Alpha Company, Alpha's sharpshooter went first. Hannah trained her eyes on her competition's target, an outline of the top portion of a man affixed to an electronic background. The Alliance didn't want to waste real ammo on target practice, especially way out here. So today, they would be firing baton rounds. The electronic background would score each hit. Hannah perceived the brief ping of a round on the target and the counter next to the target scored the points—a critical headshot.

Hannah picked up her rifle, took a breath, and aimed. In her mind's eye, she saw the target as if it were right in front of her instead of several feet away. To her, there was no distance between her rifle and the target. She pulled the trigger. Also a headshot, dead on. Through the ear muffs, she heard muted shouts of exaltation from the Hawk soldiers present in the range.

And so it went, her opponent would shoot and she followed suit. Every time she matched her competition shot for shot. He was good. So far, their scores tied. The next step was to move the targets farther and farther back until one of them dropped the score. Her ear muffs registered not a sound. The soldiers from both the Hawk and Alpha Company had stopped cheering long ago. It was clear they had two expert, unbeatable marksmen. Each side prayed the other would somehow, on this one day, make a mistake.

Hannah watched the target move to the very back of the range, several meters away. Her competition fired. It was a hit, but a bit too wide, not in the heart as she knew he must have intended. His score tabulated. She could win this thing now. Just one more shot to take.

Hannah put the rifle to her shoulder. As always, she lined up her shot and imagined the target right in front of her. Distance melted away. Her finger jerked the trigger. A perfect shot, right in the heart of the target. Her score popped up, ten points higher than her competition. The contest was over.

Hannah removed her ear muffs and the minute she did so was assaulted by the jubilant cheers of the Hawk. The soldiers mobbed her, patting her back, grasping her shoulders, shaking her hand and chanting "Hawk! Hawk! Hawk!"

Over the din, Hannah heard the loud cursing of her opponent down the way. She didn't feel one bit sorry for him. You brag like an idiot, you'll most likely get your butt handed to you on a platter. Still, she figured for the good of company relations, she should march down there and shake his hand, let him know he really was a good marksman, if not the best.

She pushed through her fellow soldiers, who let her pass and followed in her wake as courtiers escorting a queen to sing her praises. Her competition had his back to her, gesturing angrily. When she stood a few feet from him, she called out.

"No hard feelings?"

He turned and Hannah's stomach dropped. The young man who stood before her was older and bigger, but still sported dishwater blond hair and hazel eyes that mirrored her own. He was more handsome than she remembered all those years ago. The military had beefed him up quite a bit. Even so, his identity was unmistakable—She found herself staring at Daniel Shepard.

Whatever she thought of his physical appearance was lost as emotions from eight years ago swelled back into Hannah's mind. The hurt she'd experienced when he'd kissed her, said he liked her, then left and never sent another word rushed back as raw as if she had felt it yesterday. He'd forgotten her, thrown her off like she meant nothing at all. Looking at him now, she regressed to the state of an enraged, furious, hormonal thirteen-year-old girl.

"Hannah?" Daniel's face registered complete shock.

Hannah lost all control over her own actions. It was like having an out of body experience as she watched her arm swing back and her fist punch him in the face. She didn't stay to gloat over his figure sprawled out on the floor. She stomped over to the door to the range, wanting to get out of the crowd and the noise.

As she left, she heard a member of Alpha Company speaking to Daniel. "What did you do to that woman? Cheat on her or something?"

Hannah had tromped her way to her favorite spot on the ship, an out of the way window next to engineering. The structure of the ship was such that the spot next to this particular window formed a small cubby, boxed in as it was on three sides by a bulkhead and two diagonal metal beams. From here, Hannah could contemplate the stars and trace the progress of Arcturus Station. Now, she sat and stared and cursed herself for crying. The tears had already dried up, causing uncomfortable itching all over her face. She scratched at her cheek. You're twenty-one, Hannah Collier, she chided herself. Stop acting like a child!

Hannah tried to push away the memories of the spring term of her eighth grade year and the wonderful summer that followed. She didn't want to conjure up the image of Daniel, first as an awkward middle schooler, now as a grown man, tall, strong and impressive. But she couldn't keep remembrance away, no matter how hard she pushed. Then, her memory came to life as he suddenly intruded upon her in the flesh.

"Can I join you?" Hannah looked up, agitated at the voice that spoke, not only because no one had ever found her here, but because she recognized it—deeper, but his voice nonetheless. Daniel stood next to the window, a bloody tissue pressed to his nose. He hadn't spoken in anger, so she gestured to her right, indicating he was welcome to stay, although she didn't look at him when he sat.

"You've gotten…uh…stronger," Daniel said. "I'm lucky you didn't break it." Hannah didn't respond.

"Are you really mad at me because of something I did when I was a kid?" Daniel spoke, his tone taut with challenge.

Hannah rounded on him. "Yes, genius!"

"Look, I didn't write because…"

"Not only did you not write," Hannah exploded, "You didn't visit either. And don't tell me your grandmother moved. That woman was Sault Sainte Marie born and bred and was going to die there."

"She did," Daniel spat out. "Two months after I left."

"Oh," Hannah murmured. "Oh."

Daniel sat with his back against the bulkhead, knees bent, resting his arms on them, the bloody tissue dangling from his hands. "We didn't go back for the funeral because she and mom had a falling out of some kind. I have no idea what it was about."

Hannah felt guilty for bringing up his grandmother, but her anger hadn't died out. "But you could have written."

Daniel took a deep breath. "Mom didn't have good jobs. We had no access to the internet for a while and she didn't even put me in school for the fall term, too tired and lazy to do it. By the time I got back to school, it had been so long, I just…I guess…I don't know, it just felt too long had passed to send anything."

"You have hands. You could have written snail mail."

Daniel snorted derisively. "No one sends mail that way, ever, except for those traditionalists that grouse about how current culture is 'doing away with the ways of the past.'"

"If you'd really cared, you would have made it happen, called or something."

Daniel let out an exasperated breath of air. "Seriously, Hannah, what do you want me to do? Bow at your feet? Tell you what a louse I am? Let you pummel me to death? What do you want?"

Hannah folded her arms over her chest. "A simple apology would suffice."

"Okay. I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't keep up with you. I was fourteen!"

Hannah blinked her eyes. Curse tears and human emotions! Hannah screamed inside. She brushed a hand over her face.

"Are you...You're not…" Daniel stammered.

Hannah pointed a finger in his face. "I'm not!"

Daniel lowered his head, giving her space to control her feelings. When he next spoke, his voice was soft. "I am sorry."

Hannah breathed deeply. "Okay." There was a long, awkward silence. Then curiosity forced Hannah to ask a question. "How did you find me?"

Daniel actually chuckled. "You always hunted down the most out of the way places to hide." He looked at her, laughter dancing at the corner of his eyes. "The atrium had a glass roof; you wanted to be where you could see the sky. I looked at the diagram of your ship to find the most out of the way window possible."

Hannah shook her head. Did he truly still know her that well?

"Yeah, but this was the fourth place I tried," Daniel confessed, as if he could read the question in her thoughts. Another moment of silence settled in. Hannah knew her shift would start soon. She was about to stand up and make her exit, when Daniel spoke again.

"So, did you wait?"

She knew what he meant—Had she waited to date. "It's been eight years. What do you think?"

Daniel's mouth curled up in a teasing smile. "You promised."

"As you so clearly brought age into this, I'll point out I was only thirteen. What? You wait?"

Now Daniel laughed openly. "Uh…naw." Hannah raised her eyebrows and nodded her head, a gesture that indicated he was just as guilty as she of breaking his word.

Daniel's smile faded. "But none of them were like you. They were Sadies."

Hannah grunted. "Or Juliet?" To Hannah, Juliet represented the quintessential flighty, air headed girl, fatally in love.

"Still doggin' on Shakespeare huh?"

Hannah shrugged. "Look, my shift's in fifteen minutes. I've got to get changed." She pushed herself off the floor and Daniel copied her movements. He stuck out his hand.

"Friends?"

Hannah took his hand. "I wouldn't go that far. Let's just say colleagues for now."

Daniel nodded. Hannah turned on her heel and marched out through engineering.

The three days after the competition saw Hannah back to her normal routine. She didn't see Daniel at all as Alpha Company had shuttled back over to its own ship. No one dared ask her why she had punched the guy from Alpha. Maybe they were afraid to find her temper turned on them.

On the third day, Hannah walked to the mess, grabbed her grub and plopped down at the junior officers table. She chewed on a biscuit slathered in honey and listened to the latest gossip: news from earth, the latest hook ups and speculations concerning the personal lives of their commanding officers. A conversation down the table between Sub-Lieutenants Franks and Doyle caught her ear.

"Did you hear Alpha Company's being shipped over to us?" Franks questioned Doyle.

"Why?"

Franks explained. "Eagle's going home. They've done their time." Hannah had forgotten that the other company on their ship had been out here much longer. She recalled hearing a couple weeks back that they would be headed to earth again soon.

"So, they're trading Eagle for Alpha," Doyle concluded.

"Yep," Franks confirmed.

Hannah sighed deeply and concentrated on her food. That meant Daniel would be in her sight often—a constant, hurtful reminder.

When Hannah made it back to her locker later in the day, she picked up her data pad and turned it on as she walked back to her bunk. A flashing icon indicated a new message from her captain. She tapped the icon. The message contained instructions regarding Alpha Company's transfer to the ship. The captain had decided that to integrate Alpha into the ship, each bunk room would house members from the Hawk and Alpha. The captain had included a sentence that revealed he knew about the punch after the sharpshooting contest as he not so subtly noted that the soldiers assigned under Hannah's command would compel her to practice her civility. Hannah skimmed the list of names at the end of the message, her heart thumping in fear. The last name on the list was Daniel Shepard.

Hannah thumbed off the data pad, grimacing angrily, but swore herself to duty as she made it to her bunk and collapsed, trying to push any further thoughts of Daniel Shepard out of her head.