LITMIR.BIZ

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early-evening study session. I’d suggest getting one of your new mates to show you how to log in to the library.”

      A scrawny J’Veth male opened the door, peering up at Raphel with unblinking orange-slitted eyes. His facial tentacles retracted nearly all the way into his mouth in surprise, and then he stepped back with a gasp and stood to attention. “Facilitator!”

      “Nice of you to have manners, F’Thr.” Raphel glanced about the room. “Where are the others? And did you lot even pass muster during inspection this morning?”

      Nuri edged in after Raphel, but kept close to the door.

      There were four bunk beds in total – space for eight – in the narrow room, with one window directly opposite the door. The glass had been set to semi-opaque, so the interior was dim, and the ambient lighting had been dialled down to what felt like twilight. Then again, J’Veth were most comfortable in low-light conditions, just like Nuri. A little glimmer of hope, then, that she’d not end up arguing about the light settings.

      “Who’s this?” F’Thr stared pointedly at Nuri.

      Raphel pushed her forward. “This is your new squad mate. Nuri, say hi to F’Thr. He thinks he’s a part-time buffoon.”

      F’Thr’s face puffed up. “Do not!”

      Raphel just laughed. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. And I’ll pretend I didn’t see this mess of a dorm room.”

      With that, the human left her alone with the short J’Veth, who sat back down on one of the lower bunks. “Well” – he gestured about him with waggling tentacles – “this is room 204. The rejects, in other words. All the recruits they don’t know where to place end up here.”

      Nuri sidled onto the bunk opposite. Although a tablet had been left at its foot, the linen was crisply made up, suggesting no one had claimed this spot. The bed was closest to the door, but would be slightly obscured when the door opened. Which meant that anyone looking into room would turn to their left first.

      “I can take this one, right?”

      F’Thr nodded and side-eyed her, the tentacles on his left arm curling across his knee as if he wasn’t quite thinking about what he was doing. “You’re an odd one.”

      “Space trash,” Nuri supplied with a wry laugh. “And new to the planet, so I still don’t know what’s what.” The lie came out smoothly. She could own this.

      “Mmm, well, I’m the fifth son of a pod Merchanter up in the Eastern Quarter.”

      “Spare credits, huh?” Nuri ventured, hoping she had the right of it.

      “They figured they could keep me outta trouble here until they found a use for me. Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky and bring my clan honour.” He riffled his facial tentacles in the J’Veth way of showing disdain. “Odd that they let you in so late. You the one that heard the call?”

      Word travelled fast. Nuri relaxed enough to put her things down on the bed next to her. “I guess. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

      “But here you are!” F’Thr shook his head in delight. “And I reckon we’ll have ourselves loads more fun. I got all the goss first!”

      “Speaking of which …” Nuri glanced about. “Who else am I sharing with?”

      F’Thr made a gargling sound in the back of his throat – almost a laugh. “I’ll give you the dirt before the others get back. Our squad first is Byron. He’s so Military, he poops out laser beams. Duller than a Rest Day during a power outage, if you ask me. Then there’s Stasja. Elder brat.” His complexion darkened slightly.

      “You don’t like her?” Nuri said.

      “Pfft, I at least have the good taste to not have a hopeless crush on Mr Meat-for-brains. Stasja’s a real little pain. Thinks her farts smell like rainbows. Always gets what she wants, but then again, what do you expect of a strong psi. Just don’t get on her wrong side. She loves turning on the waterworks – gets all emo. Generally, people just let her get her way so she shuts up.

      “Mei’s all right. Merchanter like me, but doesn’t let it get to her head. Old Terran family from some fancy city in the Revised Chinese Empire. And that leaves us with our token Heran, Opna. He’s loads of fun. We always get into trouble, the two of us. Now the question is” – F’Thr gurgled – “how much trouble do you get into on a good day?”

      Nuri allowed herself to smile. “Oh, that depends.” Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

      * * *

      The others came in not much later. Byron was tall, blond and well-tanned, about sixteen or seventeen. F’Thr was right – he really did look as if he’d stepped out of an advertisement for a military academy. Ruggedly good-looking with the whole chiselled-jaw vibe and any other nauseating clichés Nuri could use to describe him. Byron stopped at the door to regard her, a small, puzzled frown playing in the centre of his forehead.

      “They didn’t say anything about a new squad mate.”

      Nuri rose. “Hi, I’m Nuri.” She extended a hand that he merely looked at.

      Then again, he was carrying a laundry basket.

      A petite girl of about the same age as Byron squeezed past him. Either her parents had paid for genetic enhancements or she’d been born out of a long line of tinkered genes. Stasja, Nuri assumed, thanks to F’Thr’s earlier description. She was ancestors-damned near perfect, with platinum hair, violet eyes and a complexion that reminded Nuri of expensive porcelain that belonged behind glass. Merely looking at Stasja might smudge her. She had the kind of figure that somehow made their grey coveralls look sexy.

      But that perfect little face scrunched up in distaste the moment she laid eyes on Nuri.

      “What are you?”

      “She’s our new squad mate,” F’Thr said. “Be nice.”

      “Mmmfph.” Stasja flipped back her hair and shoved past Nuri and F’Thr. nudging Nuri a little bit too hard.

      Nutri kept her lips firmly pressed together.

      Byron came all the way in and went over to one of the built-in cupboards, where he started packing away the clothing in his basket – all so painfully neatly folded it looked as if a machine had done the job, though Nuri was certain he’d done it himself.

      “Ah well, welcome anyway,” Byron said while he worked. “Five’s a bit of an odd number, but it’s better than four. We’re still short our full complement anyway, which sets us at a disadvantage sometimes during drills.”

      F’Thr huffed out a breath. “Byron, it’s not all about drills and stuff.”

      Just then two more people bustled in.

      “Oh, hi!” said the girl. She was about Nuri’s age, maybe a year older. Her glossy black hair was cut into a bob and her smile appeared genuine. “I’m Mei!” She held out a hand and shook Nuri’s firmly. Against Nuri’s translucent skin, Mei’s looked golden.

      “And I’m Opna,” said the Heran who came in after her. He nearly looked Nuri eye to eye, which made him tall for his race, and considerably less stocky. He glanced at F’Thr and pursed his small mouth. “Whatever that jerk’s said about me, it’s all an exaggeration.”

      “Poo to you too,” F’Thr shot back. “You just can’t equal my awesomeness factor.”

      Mei rolled her eyes. “Get used to this, Nuri – these guys are always at it. Just don’t let them talk you into any of their mad plots.”

      “And just don’t listen to her,” said Opna. “She’s a miss goody two-shoes.”

      “And you’re asinine,” Mei said, going to her bunk

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