Chapter One - Threatened by Master Guardian

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Chapter One

The first day at the Space Program wasn't what I was expecting. Bright and early this morning, I had been yanked from my comfortable bed and shoved onto a passenger drone. Today was the day I was reporting to the Flying Force Space Academy. That was supposed to be at zero-nine; After my coffee, my morning walk, and my shower. They had arrived at my tiny house at zero-five to the terror of my father and pets. From the start, it was clear this wasn't going to be another boring day of government training.

Four other Reconists sat on the drone with me, most of them as upset and confused as I was. We were surrounded by intense Privy Masters.

"Is there coffee?" I asked the one closest to me with a yawn.

"No." He didn't look at me.

My head jerked back. "And you think that's safe?" He didn't answer so I turned away. Out the window, the forest zoomed past thousands of feet below us. My house was the last stop, I was lucky. The scared girl near the front had to have been picked up hours ago, from clear across the planet. Her thick coat and dark hair were more telling than any of these humorless Privy Masters. She was a (from Attle 50 North or northerner) if I have ever seen one.

There was only one man on board that looked grumpier than me. His scowl was exaggerated by the plethora of scars across his left cheek. Fifteen minutes into the flight, he pulled his uniform hat over his eyes and fell asleep. Couldn't blame him there. The constant drum of the four giant blades overhead soothed me as much as the next girl.

In this giant Condor-99, it only took forty-five minutes to fly from where I lived (at Boulder 40 North or in the mountains), to the World Flying Force Headquarters that would be my home for the next six months. The 'choice' of leaving the regular ranks for specialized training was forced on me. They had laid it out; Go to the Flying Force Space Academy or quit flying.

I had been piloting drones and cargo planes around the world for years. It was my one passion. Women rarely wanted to fly, but it was in my blood. I belonged in the sky. So here I was, regretting the decision before I even started training. Over the last year, my flight record had gotten me a lot of attention. Here, that didn't seem to matter at all. Not one person had called me by name, only by rank, and every attempt to speak was stifled.

"Reconist! Sit!" someone barked at me. A large scary looking machine behind the chair he pointed at did not look very inviting.

"Can't we at least talk about this?" I asked, knowing they wouldn't listen. These Privy Masters never deterred from their orders.

"No talking," someone yelled. The Technician set the machine over my head. It whirred to life and started to cut inches off my bright blonde hair. My eyes shut when I saw the pile of golden locks near my feet. The beautiful hair that had been past my shoulders now rested in a heap on the floor.

"You could at least make it even," I mumbled.

"Quiet Reconist!" the same person said. When the Privy Master walked past, the Technician bumped the machine trying to stay out of his way. Whatever was cutting my hair jabbed into my ear.

The young Technician swore.

"Are you kidding me?!" I touched at my ear, fresh blood dotted my fingertips. Even in the harsh light, I could see the regret on the Technician's face. My anger turned to pity when I saw his bloodless face. Before I could tell him to relax, my wrist calcumat started to flash red. I silenced the alarm as a Medical Corpsman came forward.

"Your calcumat has alerted me to a level one injury, it will require two minutes to heal," the tiny man said. He unloaded his bag in front of me, an assortment of supplies laid out on the ground. With expert precession, he selected the correct tools. The numbing gel mixed with the smell of cauterizing skin made my stomach turn. It was nothing compared to what the technician was subject to. He stood in front of me, surrounded by livid Privy Masters.

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