On the Roster - Chapter 1
She didn’t miss her old life on Glascoynin-V. Most of the time. Days like today were the exception.
“Voidman Havelock,” spoke the gravelly voice, “you missed a spot.”
“Sir, yes sir.”
The first few months had been grueling. She’d earned extra duties. Lots of them. And then yet more when she hadn’t done the first set correctly. Her fingers still stung from the toxic pink disinfectant they had to use. Although, she had to concede that she was getting better at figuring out just how little she could do and get away with it. Practice makes perfect, she thought with a smirk.
It helped that they hadn’t seen an atmospheric pilot like her in a decade. Nobody had told her as much, but she’d read it on their faces when they’d reviewed her scores. ‘Yet to be tested in battle, but such potential,’ as she’d heard one officer say to another when they thought she wasn’t listening. But she always was. Navigating the governor’s palace on Glascoynin-V required you to listen five times more than you spoke. As backup to the heir apparent, she’d been groomed to be ready to run a planet. Just in case something had happened to the heir.
But nothing had, to her dismay. So she’d left.
Not that any of them knew that. She’d enlisted under a different surname, just to be sure.
“We’ll make a proper voidsman out of you yet.”
Kiri barely managed to swallow a snort. But she had. Thank the Emperor. Laughing at one’s superiors almost never went over well. And wait — was that a hint of approval in Lieutenant Rockthroat’s voice?
“Sir, thank you sir.” She didn’t turn up her head, instead focusing on the mop and the decking under her, the metal ridges sticky with a mix of soap and grit. But she heard a slightly different intake of breath, as if it worked through the hint of a smile. After a few heartbeats, she heard his crisp footsteps continue away from her down the corridor.
She grimaced, the recycled air tasting stale in her throat. The level of deference made her skin crawl, but she was pretty sure it was worth it, so she choked it down. People often saw what they expected to see, and if they expected nothing but the best, they’d be more likely to see it. She’d seen several advisers cruise to high levels in her father’s esteem on nothing more than a convincing first impression.
And she was going to have to stop calling the Lieutenant ‘Rockthroat’. That wasn’t his name — but what was it again? Avery Crestwhip or something like that.
“Lieutenant Creustal,” a crew member walked up and saluted him. He looked familiar. Was it the lieutenant’s aide?
“Restal. At ease.”
“The squadron command teams are waiting in your quarters, ready to select the surface squads for tomorrow.”
“Thank you Restal. Lead the way.”
The two of them walked off. They turned right. She counted 42 more steps, the click of their boots echoing sharp against the bulkhead. Then, the whine of a servo door opening. The lieutenant’s office was nearby.
Surface squads, she thought. Sounds like a mission incoming.
Kiri finished the last few mop strokes and straightened up, ready to pack up the mop and head back. But she saw the spot that the Lieutenant had pointed out. Now that she saw it, it really did stick out.
Kiri scowled. “Throne damned fool…” she said. About herself or the lieutenant, she didn’t know.
But she walked over to the spot and attacked it with the mop anyway.
Maybe the fool lieutenant had a point.
~
The cleaning closet was around the corner. She cleaned the mop and hung it up. She was about to take off the cleaning frock she’d pulled over her uniform, but then her eyes were drawn to the ventilation grate high in the wall.
She looked down at her hands. Callouses covered them. From mop handles, not handlebars. I need to fly, she thought. She stood up and put her ear to the grate.
She thought she heard the faintest of voices over the hum of recycled air.
“I hope I don’t regret this,” she said, as she stood on a bin and used a tool to work open the grate.