"You need to attempt the impossible in order to achieve the impossible."
~Unknown


Elizabeth

Whatever Chopper had said to Bailey's friends got through to them, and none of them even dared to look at me, let alone speak to me, afterward. Not that I was complaining, of course. I enjoyed the reprieve from it all, and it certainly made the time Chopper was away at Heierlark easier to bear when I didn't have to worry about being bullied. I could've handled it, but still, I didn't want to, and thanks to him, I didn't have to.

When Chopper returned, he failed to stop grinning for a solid week, and he only spoke of Heierlark. I simply sat and listened, not wanting to rain on his parade. Besides, I understood. Only a select few get to go to Heierlark to train. All but freshmen were allowed to go, but rarely did sophomores make the cut, considering only twenty students were selected, so it was a big deal he was there, and I'd probably be as ecstatic as him. The only two programs that were more competitive were the Sand Island Program (SIP) and the Belkan Exchange Program (BEP), which took eight and four students, respectively. Sophomores were allowed to attend SIP, but none had ever made it, not even Joshua Bristow, the golden child who broke almost all the records at the Academy during his time here. Only juniors and seniors were allowed for BEP, but only one junior had ever made it onto the team: again, Joshua Bristow. He turned out to be one of the most infamous traitors Osea ever produced, but no one could deny his flying abilities. To this day, he remained my uncle's second-biggest contender, only beaten by Solo Wing Pixy.

The Sand Island Program started soon, and it turned out to be the only thing that could bring Chopper out of his obsessive Heierlark talk. "I heard they have a new captain there who's going to be taking over training. A vet from the Belkan War," Chopper said, waving a forgotten fry around as he explained everything he knew. "His name is Jack Bartlett; callsign is Heartbreak One."

"That's a mouthful," Cassie remarked, snatching the fry out of his hand and eating it. When he shot her an offended look, she rolled her eyes. "You weren't eating it, and I'm starving. Don't want me to eat your fries? Then don't wave them in my face."

"You're lucky I like you. Anyways-" Chopper grabbed another fry, eating this one- "he's supposed to be arriving today to survey potential candidates. Think I can sweet-talk my way into the program?"

"I need more info. On a scale of Professor Nellis to Professor Hardin, how much of a hardass is he?" I queried, taking a sip of my drink.

"From what I heard, he might be closer to Hardin."

"Okay, this can still be salvageable," Cassie declared. "On a scale of drunk me to a freshly-woken up Elizabeth, how friendly is he?"

I chucked a fry at her. "Hey!"

"Am I wrong?" I opened my mouth to protest but shut it when I realized she was right. "Exactly. Now, Chopper, answer my question."

"Honestly, probably closer to Elizabeth."

"Yeah, you're screwed. Still, I want to see you try, though."

"Unless Jack Bartlett turns out to be a woman, I don't think you can charm your way into the program. You'll have to do it like everyone else," Nagase chimed in.

"Elizabeth, back me up here," Chopper said, gently kicking my leg under the table.

Leaning back in my chair, I mulled it over. Thinking back to all the so-called impossible feats he'd pulled off, I decided upon my answer. "I learned a long time ago not to put anything past you. I think you have a shot."

"Then I'll definitely make it."

"When you do decide to approach Bartlett, let me know so I can watch you crash and burn. Otherwise, I need to get going for a meeting with my mentor," Cassie said. She stood and grabbed her tray. Nagase swiftly followed, stating she needed to talk to a professor about an assignment. Chopper and I watched them go, finishing off our meals before leaving ourselves. I started heading to my dorm, but my friend had other ideas, grabbing my arm and directing me down a different hallway.

Frowning, I asked in confusion, "Where are we going?"

"I got us some simulator time. Figured you wouldn't pass up on the opportunity," Chopper responded as we rounded the corner. He immediately bumped into a surly man. We both backed away and saluted him, recognizing that he was undoubtedly a senior member of the military.

"At ease, cadets." The man had a deep, gruff voice that caused me to make a mental note to never piss him off, whoever he was. "What are your names?"

"I'm Alvin Banks, sir. Callsign Chopper. It's nice to meet you, Captain Bartlett."

Ah, so this was the Sand Island trainer. "I'm Elizabeth Banks, sir. No callsign yet. Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Dorms aren't this way, and that's where most cadets head after dinner. Where are you two off to?"

"To train on the simulators, sir," Chopper replied. "We both have early morning lessons in the trainer jets and would like to get some practice in beforehand."

Bartlett grunted in what sounded like approval. I hoped it was, at least. "Then you two better get going."

Saluting him once more, Chopper and I hurriedly left. Once we walked out of earshot, I elbowed him and said, "What happened to charming your way into the program?"

"It's all about reading the person. He's not in the mood to be talking to cadets right now. My guess is he's been hounded by our peers to get into the program. If we don't say a word about it, at least right off the bat, I think it'll give us brownie points."

"You're a lot smarter than you look, you know that?"

"I get you time on the simulator out of hours, and you pay me back in sarcasm and insults. I see how it is!"

"Someone has to keep your ego in check, and none of the other girls on base will, except for me, Cassie, and Nagase. Since neither of them is around, it's all up to me right now."

Chopper shot me a smirk but said nothing else. We arrived at the simulator room and checked in, then took two stalls directly next to each other. I put on the VR goggles and grabbed the mock controls. I went through the motions of prepping the plane for takeoff, ticking off each item on the mental checklist I'd memorized immediately after the Base Commander told me I'd be placed in an accelerated program. Next was take off, and then the calm before the first' mission.' The simulator started easy. You began with one enemy, and if you won, another enemy would be added to the equation until you hit ten, the highest you could reach. Bailey Cohen was the only student currently at the Academy to have beaten seven enemies on the simulator. She lasted thirty seconds on the eighth level with no kills before she got taken out herself, probably from sheer exhaustion because the simulator could be mentally and visually taxing if it took you a long time to defeat the bandits.

I beat the first level with no issue. The second level barely caused any problems either. On the third, I had significant difficulty evading the captain of the enemy squadron, but with some fancy flying and dumb luck, I managed to get behind him and shoot him down.

The fourth and fifth levels, strangely, weren't as tricky as level three had been. Of course, perhaps it'd been trying to lead me into a false sense of security because when I reached level six, the simulator made up for the ease I'd encountered on the previous missions. I'd never been able to get past level six before, but I was determined to do so before I left this year. I wanted to at least match Bailey's record of winning level seven, mainly to wipe that arrogant smirk off her face. It was one of the few records of hers I hadn't conquered yet. The others I hadn't intended to beat; those had been accidental. This endeavor of mine, however, was absolutely intentional. Having level seven under her belt was Bailey's crowning achievement. If I could match it, then it'd be a slap in the face to her. It was the least I could do since she dragged my name through the mud all year.

Halfway through the level, I heard Chopper groan and swear angrily. Had I not been so invested in my mission, I would've asked him what happened despite knowing fully well he'd failed the simulator.

Keeping my focus on the task at hand, I slowly but systematically hunted down the remaining three enemies for level six. It took an agonizing twenty minutes to do so, but I did it. I took a deep, steadying breath. I'd finally beaten the level. Now came seven. It came with a scenario I'd never encountered before, and I could understand why so few people had bested it: a massive mountain range with a multitude of blind corners that enemies could pop out from to attack, and a blinding sun reflecting off the snow-capped peaks creating visibility difficulties and weird illusions that could almost make one doubt they faced the sky or the ground. How Bailey beat this, I had no idea, but I'd needed to figure it out quickly if I wanted to get my name on the board for it.

Well, if the enemies can use the blind spots to attack me, I can do the same to them.

I dove toward the ground, leveling out at a dangerously low altitude that allowed me to hug every curve and turn of the mountains. It messed with my radar, but I could catch the blips well enough to determine where each one was.

A pair rounded the mountain in front of me, and having expected it, I locked on to the leader, fired a missile, immediately targeted the second, and watched both of them burst into flames. I skirted the miniature explosions, using them as a cover to dive behind a ridge and hide from the four enemies trailing me. The fifth and sixth lay somewhere in front of me, which I planned on taking out next.

"Where are you?" I muttered to myself, eyes flicking between the radar and the horizon in front of me. I caught them briefly on radar and noticed they were seemingly still directly in front of me but barely moving, which meant they must've been climbing the mountainside. If that were the case, if I slowed down a little, they would cross my line of sight, and I could loop up and around behind them. It was a risk worth taking since the other four enemies were far enough away right now.

With bated breath, I waited for the opportunity to arise, and as I predicted, the enemies flew directly in front of me. Before they fully passed overhead, I'd already lifted my plane in an attempt to get behind them. It paid off beautifully, and within seconds, I fired a missile and knocked the first one out. I switched to guns and blasted the second into smithereens.

Four planes left.

It took me over a minute to find them, and when I did, I sadly was not in a favorable position. All four cruised behind me, dead set on taking me out. I narrowly avoided getting shot down and made a sharp turn around a mountain peak as my defense. How the hell was I going to survive this? It's not like I could give up. This was the furthest I'd ever made it on the simulator, and I was so close to completing level seven and getting my name up there with Bailey's. Failure was not an option.

What else could I do, though? What's something no one else had tried before? To beat level seven, I had to think outside the box. My special weapons were for ground targets only, and they had picked up on my tactic of hiding in the mountains; I could maybe use the sun to hide my position, but I would have to climb into the sky first and risk getting locked onto. With four planes, I didn't want to take the chance. Not yet. It's not like I could use my signal light to lure them into a false surrender because that would be considered a war crime.

But using my signal light was allowed. The question is: would it work in the simulator, and if so, what message could I signal to lure them in without firing and without committing a war crime? What if I told them to surrender? If they misconstrued that as my surrender, that would be on them, right?

I can't believe I'm considering this, but it's worth a shot. Ensuring I remained far enough out of range but still in sight, I leveled out above the mountain range and began the signal: Surrender now. I could see the signal light flashing my message, then waited for a response. With bated breath, I watched them close in, first within special weapon's range, then missile range, then gun range.

"This is insanity..." I mumbled, watching the leader of the jet pull up alongside me. One of their wingmen pulled up on my rear into weapon's envelope. The other two hovered overhead as if to prevent me from moving upward. That worked in my favor, at least. I had to time this right because I knew if I didn't, I'd be dead, and even if I did, it was going to piss the enemies off, simulator or not. I flashed them to surrender again, but when the response I received was to release all my weapons, I realized they thought I was surrendering, and that certainly wasn't happening. With no other option, I said, "Here we go!"

I banked hard right, immediately going to guns on the leader. Flames sprouted from the engine as the jet immediately began losing altitude while its pilot struggled to get it back in working condition. Meanwhile, I dove toward the ground at breakneck speed with three bandits on my tail. I veered back toward the nearly neutralized enemy. Turning around, I let the enemies get a lock on me and fire a missile. Once I saw the smoke in the air, I darted in front of the leader again. The projectile crashed into him instead of me, effectively taking him out for good.

Five down, three to go.

My maneuver, having created chaos amongst the pilots, gave me the opportunity I needed to climb. I hit the afterburners with everything I had and climbed directly toward the sun, using it as a shield. If the bandits tried to find me, they'd be blinded by it. One had managed to get behind me, but my trick worked like a charm. When they got close enough, I hit the brakes and flew above him, letting him blow straight past me. Dropping behind him, I locked on and fired, hitting him with ease.

Two more.

I flipped my plane upside down and went into a vertical plunge. I could see the remaining two fighters climbing to meet me. I barrel-rolled toward them, avoiding their gun fire whilst sending two missiles at each plane, mainly in an attempt to scatter them. The gamble paid off. One headed left, the other right. The latter, being closer, became my next target. I had the high ground, too, so from above, I locked onto them and fired a missile and my guns for safe measure. My bullets did the trick.

One to go.

Holy shit, I might make it to level eight! If I can just get this last enemy... For the love of God and all that is holy, please let me get this. Please, please, please…

I scanned the skies and my radar, praying I found him before he found me. "Where'd you go, bastard?"

A glint of metal to my left caught my attention, followed by my missile alert blaring and a trail of smoke coming straight for me. I jerked upwards and slammed my fist on the flares button. A line went out behind me, and mercifully, the projectile hit the flares instead of me. I looped around to the left, landing on the enemy's six.

"Now I've got you!" With plenty of missiles and bullets in reserve, I let loose my fury. I wasn't going to lose. Not now.

"Bullseye!" I exclaimed involuntarily when the plane exploded and the 'Mission Accomplished' title flashed across my screen. I laughed in disbelief, unable to believe I'd finally beaten level seven, and as a freshman, no less! That meant-

'Level Eight' appeared in front of me. I found myself strangely calm. It was widely rumored that this was impossible to beat. It was the Kobayashi Maru test of the Osean Air Force Academy. Bailey hadn't even gotten one enemy out before getting "killed" herself hardly thirty seconds into the mission. If I could get one kill, I'd be thrilled.

At first, nothing appeared on the screen, and I genuinely thought there might be some glitch or system error. Then I saw a flash of lightning and realized two things: one, I flew in a nighttime storm, and two, I had ten enemy planes coming at me from every direction- north, east, south, west. You name it, they were there. The only places I didn't see bandits were below and above me. I could temporarily lose them in the clouds, but for how long? And their radars would still work even if they couldn't see me. I still had large unguided bombs- UGBLs- for my special weapons, but those were for the ground. It's not like I could use those in the air…

A very daring, very stupid idea struck me. I had nothing else to lose on an unbeatable mission, so what the hell? I pulled upwards into a vertical climb, watching my altimeter go haywire at the speed at which I rose into the sky. When I moved past the top of the tallest thunderhead, I began barrel-rolling my plane, dropping UGBL after UGBL into the clouds below me, only stopping to let the weapon's system reload. The trick up my sleeve was worth one in a million, if not more, but if this paid off, I'd be the only person currently in the school to have ever gotten a kill on level eight.

I turned to look behind me just in time to see an explosion rock the clouds, illuminating the dark thunderheads a sinister red and orange. Five bandits shot out from it, one seemingly with its tail literally on fire. No more followed. I couldn't believe what I'd done. No way had I- surely my tactic- had I seriously just destroyed five enemy planes with a Hail Mary attempt at dropping UGBLs into the clouds?

"Holy shit, I think that actually worked!" Laughing in utter disbelief, I flipped my plane over at 30,000 feet and rocketed back toward the storm, dropping my remaining bombs in a desperate attempt to take more out. Sadly, it didn't work, but I did manage to shoot down one with a missile and take out the already-damaged plane with bullets.

In less than three minutes, I'd taken out over half the enemies, broken a school record, and given myself an actual shot at winning level eight. If I pulled this off…

Using the clouds as coverage, I skimmed the underside of the top layer, just enough to give visibility above me while staying relatively well hidden. Behind me, I could see the three enemies regrouping, flying in my direction, searching for me.

Hunting me.

I lowered my plane into the clouds and chose to rely on my radar. Sure, they could see me on theirs, but they couldn't see me physically. They would have no idea how high or how low I flew. Meanwhile, I had a better guesstimate. I just had to be careful with the lightning. Hopefully, it would blind them rather than reveal the shadow of my plane. I also had to be cautious that the lightning didn't mess with my jet.

The three bandits closed in from above, hovering over my position. They were surely attempting to gauge precisely where I was. I watched one blip on my radar slightly deviate from the other two, and on a hunch, I slammed on the brakes. Hardly a second later, a missile streaked past, and the bandit leveled out right where I had been—their mistake. My plane did the work for me, locking on despite the darkness, and I took the shot. Where my projectile hit, I couldn't tell, but it did the job, and the enemy disappeared off my radar.

God, don't fail me now. Or Razgriz. I'll take any deity at this point as long as you help me win this.

With only two remaining fighters, I could've been "killed" right then and there, and I would've been okay with it, but I still had ammo, a flyable plane, and a chance at winning. Now was no time to give up.

"Fuck it," I said, snapping the jet upwards. I burst through the clouds and blasted directly between the two enemy fighters, forcing them to separate. I went for the closest one, looping upside down and setting my sights on them. I used both missiles and guns, not wanting to take any chances of letting them escape. I had enough ammo to use the tactic on both remaining targets. I could do this. I had to do this.

"Splash one!" The AWACs confirmed over the radio.

One last target. Come on, Elizabeth. You can do this! You're almost there!

I circled around and saw my last enemy approaching head-on from the distance. Another brilliantly stupid idea popped into my head, and I decided to go for it. Even if I lost because of it, I'd gotten further than anyone else. I'd be okay to take the loss.

I watched the bandit close in. The second I came within range, I fired a missile, as did they. While they immediately chose to fly upward, I waited until the last second to do so, hitting the one and only flare set I had to use. Their missile struck the flares, leaving me free to not only chase after them but get behind them.

This was it. This was my moment. Unleashing a barrage of bullets, missiles, and fury, I fired everything I had at the last remaining jet. They would not escape me. If I were to win this mission, I would win it in a blaze of glory.

Time slowed, my vision narrowed, and I zeroed in on a single missile whistling through the midnight sky on a straight and true path. I watched as it struck the enemy fighter, noticed the blip disappear from my radar, and then-

Silence.

The screen blacked out.

I ripped off the VR headset and exclaimed, "Did anyone see that? Because I will not be doing that again!"

Wide-eyed, I glanced around. I only had one witness: Chopper. He'd seen the entire thing. We locked eyes, both shell-shocked at the feat I'd accomplished mere seconds ago.

"Elizabeth, you just- you beat-" Chopper continued to stammer, unable to form a coherent sentence. He must've decided words wouldn't suffice for the situation because he decided to forego them all together and, instead, lifted me into a massive hug. "I can't believe you Captain Kirked that mission!"

"Cadet Banks!" Professor Hardin barked. His sudden appearance immediately ruined the moment, and I could tell by the tone of his voice he was not in a good mood. Chopper set me down, and we both stood at attention, saluting the professor. "What did you do?"

"Please clarify, sir," I responded, keeping my body perfectly still and steady.

"How do you cheat the system?"

His words broke my posture; whether it was from the insult in him believing I'd cheated on the test or the flattery that he thought I was smart enough to hack the system in the first place, I couldn't quite place. "I didn't cheat the system, sir."

"It's true, sir," Chopper chimed in. Annoyance edged his tone. "I watched her from level six on-"

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, Davenport!" Hardin snapped, effectively shutting my friend up, although Chopper's disdain for the professor still showed on his face. Returning his attention to me, Hardin continued, "Both of you come with me. We need to review the footage to see how you did it without committing a war crime if you didn't hack the system to win. Come with me."

Hardin turned on his heel and strode purposefully out of the simulation room. Chopper and I followed, but not before sharing concerned looks. This wouldn't end well for us if Hardin had any say. He despised both of us: Chopper for his personality and me for correcting him on a fact once. The man held grudges worse than the Devil.

We arrived at the Base Commander's room, and Hardin knocked firmly on the door. Powell informed him we could enter. Our professor opened the door and ordered us inside, which we obeyed without hesitation. To my surprise, Bartlett lounged in one of the chairs. He eyed Chopper and me curiously.

Meanwhile, Powell smiled at us and said, "This doesn't look like a good meeting. What seems to be the problem?"

"This one-" Hardin pointed accusingly at me- "somehow beat the simulator. Whether she hacked the system or committed a war crime, I'm not sure, but neither is acceptable. I've brought her here to interrogate her and discover the truth about what she did."

"First things first," Powell said, leaning forward and pulling something up on his computer. "We need to review the replay of each mission and see if we can spot any errors or supposed war crimes. Perhaps she committed one without realizing it. Take a seat, and let's watch."

Chopper and I took seats against the wall while Hardin sat next to Bartlett. I kept my hands clasped tightly in my lap and watched the massive TV screen on the back wall, where footage of my simulation began playing. In agonizing silence, the five of us reviewed it. My eyes continuously flicked over to the three men to gauge their reactions. A ghost of a smile tugged on Bartlett's lips during specific sequences, and I swear even Powell smiled at one point, but Hardin remained stony-faced.

As mission seven came on, I tensed, knowing precisely what they would call me out on during it. I prepared my answer. Sure enough, the moment my signal light flashed 'Surrender Now,' Hardin slammed his hand on his leg and declared, "There! She's leading them to a false surrender."

Powell peered over Hardin's shoulder at me, steepling his fingers. "Cadet Banks, care to explain?"

"I wasn't surrendering, sir," I said confidently despite my shaky nerves. "I didn't signal that I was surrendering. I was ordering them to surrender. They mistook my order for my surrender, and there's nothing in the Lumen Accords about how mistaken intent and a misunderstood message is a war crime."

Hardin did not appreciate my argument. "I beg to differ. She's not getting away on a technicality-"

Bartlett interrupted, "We treat the actions in the simulator as we would in the real world, and although you may disagree with her actions, she has a point. If we were to take this to a court of law, her defense would be a solid one. The enemy misunderstood her message, but if her true intent was ordering them to surrender, she is not in the wrong for their misunderstanding."

"Captain Bartlett is right. Cadet Banks did not explicitly state she was surrendering, and if we were to voice aloud her signal message, it would sound like an order, not a submission of defeat. I do believe she has found a possible loophole in the Lumen Accords, but that is a matter of discussion for another time. Let's continue watching the rest of the footage."

Hardin glowered in my direction before turning his attention to the TV. Bartlett smirked at me before he did the same. The rest of mission seven went smoothly, but that hardly settled my nerves. By the time eight came around, I swear I could feel myself coming undone. I braced my elbows on my bouncing legs and rested my chin on my clasped hands. Chopper subtly reached over and placed a comforting hand on my knee. My bouncing legs stopped, and a wave of calm rushed over me. I shot him a grateful smile. He winked at me as if to say, "I've got your back."

Powell paused at the first explosion and turned to me with raised eyebrows, but not before Chopper moved his hand off my leg. "Did you just drop UGBLs on aircraft?"

"It was a Hail Mary. I didn't think it'd work, but I figured I had nothing to lose at this point," I replied. "Believe me, I was more shocked than anyone that it actually destroyed five targets. I would've been happy with one because that's more than anyone else has gotten in the school."

"It's impossible to do that in real life," Hardin retorted sourly.

"The simulator is supposed to do just that: simulate real life," Chopper countered with a challenging glare. "If it's not supposed to happen in reality, then why have they made it possible on the simulator?"

Bartlett pursed his lips and hung his head. I could've sworn he was laughing, but not at Chopper. At a sputtering Hardin. The professor finally found his words and demanded, "That's not flying, what she did. That's insanity."

"I disagree, sir," Chopper said, barely holding back his temper.

"Then what do you call it?"

My friend answered decidedly and firmly. "Ingenuity. She took calculated risks that no one else ever thought of, and it paid off, sir."

"Barlett, Hardin, Davenport, step out into the waiting room," Powell ordered. "I'd like to speak with Cadet Banks alone."

Chopper clapped my shoulder gently as he walked by me. I moved to the front of the room and stood in front of Powell, who motioned for me to sit again. He waited until the door shut behind Bartlett before saying, "In all my years, I've never seen anyone pull half the stuff you did in the simulator. The amount of risk you took to win the mission is simultaneously concerning and commendable. As much as I want to agree with Hardin on the tactic you used in mission seven, I cannot say it's beyond reasonable doubt that you were wrong in doing so. I stand by what I said earlier: if you spoke your signal message aloud, it would sound like an order, and if this were taken to court, I'd say you'd have a good shot at winning your case."

I felt the color drain out of my face. "I'm not going to get court-martialed, am I?"

Powell chuckled and leaned forward, bracing his forearms against his mahogany desk. "No, no, you didn't commit a war crime in reality. I was speaking hypothetically. You have nothing to worry about. I'm going to review the replay again to ensure nothing was missed, but I truthfully don't see anything you did wrong. Questionable, perhaps. Illegal? No. I do need to ask you again, though: what was your intent with the signaling? I need you to tell me the truth."

"I stand by what I said earlier. I wanted to lure them in closer without them getting a missile lock on me. I knew a false surrender would be a war crime, but if I told them to surrender, they would either listen to me, and then I would win the mission, or they wouldn't listen to me. I did think there was a possibility they could mistake my message, but I figured since it wasn't my intent to mislead them…"

"I had to confirm to be safe, and I believe you're telling the truth. I do have to say, you didn't exactly sound like you were trying to win level eight. It seemed you were trying to see what you could get away with. Why's that?"

"Ah. That. Uh, you wouldn't be wrong. My only goal was to match Bailey Cohen's record or even get a single kill on level eight. Either way, it would've infuriated her. She's dragged my name through the mud over the course of the year-"

"Why?"

"Because I'm beating the records that she broke. I've been fighting to keep my record unblemished by trying to have the best grades, keeping my nose clean, and being the best cadet I possibly can. Honestly, I was only wanting to get at least one kill because that'd be one more kill than her and-"

"So, in retaliation against Bailey's anger, you tried to do something that would make her even angrier?"

"Yes… and then since level eight was unbeatable, I kind of just, I don't know, had fun with it?"

"Oh, I can tell that by your comments to yourself during the replay of the footage. With that being said, as I see it, while your methods might be questionable, you didn't do anything wrong; I will allow the record to stand. You, cadet, are the first and only person to have beaten the impossible. I'm going to speak with Professor Hondo about getting you up in the jets at the beginning of next year and training with some of the juniors. You have a lot of potential to become one of the best pilots in the military. Davenport and Nagase, as well. Yes, I know you're friends with Kei Nagase, too," Powell said upon seeing my confused expression. "I've been keeping an eye on all three of you because it's been many years since I've seen your kind of talent walk these halls. Needless to say, if your following years are going to be as interesting as your freshman, you're going to make quite the name for yourself."

Powell stood, and I followed suit. He said, "I'll let you get back to your room. Congratulations again, Cadet Banks."

"Thank you, sir!" I beamed at him as I finally allowed myself to relax from the whole situation. Saluting him, I strode out of the room with a bounce in my step. I scanned the room for Chopper and saw him walking out of an office at the end of the hall with a dazed look.

"Chopper, you okay?" I asked, looking him up and down.

"Yeah, yeah, I-"

"Banks!" Bartlett shouted from the office. "Get in here. I want to talk to you."

"Hold that thought," I told Chopper, patting him on the chest before hurrying down the hall to the impatiently waiting captain. I entered the room and stood at attention until Bartlett told me to sit. He sat in the chair across from me, leaned casually back in it, and skewered me with a hard stare.

"I've had dozens upon dozens of students trying to suck up to me so they can get to Sand Island. You and Chopper are the only ones who haven't, yet you two are probably some of the most qualified. What gives?"

I barely bit back a smile. Chopper had been right; not bringing up Sand Island with Bartlett had worked in our favor. It's not like it'd help me, but Chopper? Definitely. "I'm not eligible to go this year, sir."

"What do you mean? You're a sophomore, aren't you?"

"No, sir. Freshman."

Bartlett blinked. "You're telling me a freshman beat the unbeatable level?"

"I was very motivated."

"By what?"

"Spite."

Bartlett snorted, cracking a grin. "Against who?"

I told him the story of Bailey, why the rivalry started, how it's going, and how I truthfully did the equivalent of 'fuck around and find out' on the last level, albeit in much more eloquent terms, although I don't believe Bartlett would've cared if I did swear in front of him.

"If I could change the rules about who's allowed to come to Sand Island, I would, but the Academy is a stickler about it. Otherwise, I'd be inviting you to have a spot right now. That's why I called you in here. I expect you to submit your application for it next year. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now get going. Don't want to keep your boyfriend waiting."

"My boyfriend, sir?"

"Davenport."

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend. We're just friends."

Bartlett raised an eyebrow. "Do all your guy friends put their hand on your leg in a dark room?"

"I've known him for years, and he's my brother's best friend. He's protective, and he could sense my anxiety during the footage review. Chopper only meant it to comfort me. Not as anything else."

"Right," Bartlett replied in a tone that clearly indicated he failed to believe me. "Then you better get going so you don't keep your friend waiting. I'll see you next year, Kid."

Bidding Bartlett goodnight, I hurried out of the room and found Chopper sitting in a chair, bouncing his legs up and down in anticipation. Upon seeing me, he jumped up and asked, "Well? Is Powell letting you keep the record?"

A smile spread across my face, reaching ear to ear. "He is!"

Chopper exuberantly lifted me into the air. "That's amazing! I'm so happy for you! I can't wait to see the look on Bailey's face when she realizes."

Once my feet were on solid ground again, I queried, "What about you? You looked baffled walking out of Bartlett's office."

"Oh! Looks like you're not the only one breaking records tonight." Chopper smirked smugly. "Guess who's the first sophomore to go to Sand Island?"

"No way! I'm so proud of you!"

"Come on, let's go see our friends and tell them the good news," he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. We walked down the hallway to our dorms, chattering excitedly about the days to come and our future at the Academy.