Tiger Honor, page 5
Yi and Min were still looking at me. “Understood,” I said. Inwardly, however, I swore to find out what was really going on.
The next hour passed in a blur. When I looked back on the preparations later, I was surprised they took that long. Back home, my parents always had a small bag packed for me in case we had to evacuate the family estate at a moment’s notice. “It’s the emergency you don’t predict that’s dangerous,” Nini liked to say. Later, when I was older, they showed me the estate’s stockpiles and how to pack emergency supplies for myself. If something did go wrong, I could stuff everything in a bag and be on my way in under fifteen minutes—under ten if things really got bad.
Other people, even in the Space Forces, didn’t appear to have this level of preparedness drilled into them. I wondered if my family was unusual. I hoped not. It had always been impressed on me that I would have to prove myself to the Space Forces, not the other way around.
You’re getting ahead of yourself, I thought as I filled out another set of forms at a worn table. I wasn’t sure why we couldn’t have gotten this out of the way when we were dealing with the first set. The lieutenant who’d intercepted us on the way to the Haetae’s docking bay, a dour-faced man, had insisted that we couldn’t board without the proper papers, since neither Jee nor I had a naval ID yet, and Yi didn’t want to go scrambling for a senior officer to override the guards.
Jee, less inhibited, had asked the lieutenant, “Is there a reason we couldn’t have done this earlier, sir? Some of the questions are even the same as on the form we’ve already filled out.”
The lieutenant sighed. “The regs are the regs, worm egg.”
“Sir?” Jee looked confused.
The lieutenant pursed his lips. “Remember, there are three kinds of people in the Space Forces—officers, noncoms, and worms. Guess which one you are?”
Yi shook their head as if at a tired old joke. “You’re not even sworn in yet, Jee. Hence worm eggs.”
“Anyway, hurry up with those forms,” the lieutenant said, tapping his stylus against my side of the table.
I kept myself from twitching in response. “Done,” I said, handing him my slate. I tensed up when he glanced at it, wondering if he’d comment on my relationship to Uncle Hwan.
The lieutenant typed rapidly once we’d finished the forms, then nodded. “Congratulations, you’ve passed the security check,” he said, although he didn’t sound congratulatory at all. He had us pose for ID photos. The desk beeped several times, then spat out cards, and he passed them over to us.
I fought to suppress my grin. An ID of my own, with my new rank on it. Cadet. Or my rank once I was sworn in, I supposed. This was extremely irregular.
“Ship’s stores can provide uniforms,” the lieutenant went on. “We did have a couple sent down, but no one thought to check your sizes and they’re, uh…One looks like it was made for a seven-foot giant, and the other, well, besides being made for someone who didn’t meet the minimum height requirements in their human shape, it has holes in it, and I don’t mean the ones your body parts are supposed to go through.”
Min looked severe. “We’ll have to write this up in our report.”
The lieutenant laughed in her face. “Please. You Domestic Security types may swan around in your fancy outfits”—my gaze swept involuntarily to Yi’s ridiculous utility boots—“and you may get all the fancy tech toys, but you don’t have jurisdiction.”
Still, I smelled his aggravation. It suggested that Yi and Min had more power here than the lieutenant wanted to admit.
“Now, Min, don’t vex our colleague,” Yi murmured.
That only made the lieutenant’s aggravation smell stronger. He had the sense not to provoke a confrontation, though.
Once the paperwork was taken care of, we were finally escorted by the lieutenant, with Ensign Hak in tow, to the Haetae’s docking bay. Yi flashed their badge at more guards, with the same result each time.
“You’re expected, Investigator,” one of the guards said to Yi. “Good hunting out there.”
Yi smiled benevolently. “Much appreciated. I never turn down good luck.”
I didn’t know how many docking bays the naval base contained and sensed that it was better not to ask. We passed through enclosed walkways, each with their walls painted heaven-blue and adorned with fortuitous symbols like peach blossoms, until we reached the one we wanted. After one final check of my new credentials, the guards allowed us through.
I’d thought I was prepared for the sight of a battle cruiser, even one groundside. I was wrong. My breath caught at the sheer size of it.
The Haetae was vast, all black and silver and aggressive angles. Painted on the side was a haetae, its namesake, a creature with the body of a lion, scales, and a horn jutting out of its forehead. Haetae were supposed to protect people from disasters, especially those due to fire, and to bring law and order. It was a fortunate name for a starship.
I’d spent long hours poring over different warship classes, committing their appearances to memory. With its triangular silhouette, the Haetae must’ve belonged to the Kestrel class, capable of atmospheric flight as well as maneuvers in space. I was just as impressed by its armaments, which included missile ports and gun turrets. When someone got around to swearing me in, I would be part of its crew.
Someday, I swore to myself, I’ll be a captain, too. Maybe not of a ship this impressive, but I had to start somewhere.
“Look at those scramblers,” Min said in an aside to Jee and me, interrupting my daydreaming. “They help protect the base from aerial and orbital surveillance.”
I was annoyed that I hadn’t noticed them earlier. Someone had installed them at regular intervals around the bay.
“Do you work with a lot of technology?” I asked. I was obviously fishing for information. But if I had to work with Min in the future, I wanted to know her capabilities. I had the feeling I’d be seeing a lot more of her once we were underway.
She smirked at me, and my dislike of her intensified. “It’s part of the job. I’m good at tech. But there should be plenty of people in the crew qualified to take care of that, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure,” I said, as blandly as I could manage. She wrinkled her nose at me.
The Haetae’s main boarding ramp stood open. Someone in an ensign’s uniform, presumably the officer of the deck responsible for boarding, was waving at us to hurry up.
Yi swept ahead with Min walking by their side. I hoped I’d be able to get a good look at Yi’s badge when we checked in. Jee and I brought up the rear, clutching our IDs.
Ensign Hak exchanged a few words with the officer of the deck while I sniffed surreptitiously at the latter. Human, like Jee. Still, I couldn’t underestimate her. Among other things, she had a blaster belted to her side, and I bet she knew how to use it.
The officer of the deck turned to Yi and Min. “IDs, please.”
This time I finally got a glimpse of Yi’s badge, even if from the back. It was a circle with a rim that flashed gold. Perhaps aware of my curiosity, they tilted it, and my eyes widened. Not just Domestic Security, but a member of a special task force. Min had a similar badge, without the gold rim, presumably because she was lower-ranking.
I suppressed a stab of envy. Not that I had any interest in working for Domestic Security. Among other things, you didn’t get a ship that way. But Min looked fairly young, only a few years older than I was, and she was already accompanying a special investigator on an important mission. Whereas I was likely to be chopping vegetables or scrubbing the deck for weeks at a time.
Don’t get impatient, I chided myself. It was important for every member of the crew—even a would-be future captain—to become familiar with the ship’s workings and maintenance. Besides, I was no stranger to hard work. And I was sure that hard work was what it would take.
We were next. Jee saluted the officer of the deck clumsily and I tried not to criticize him in my head. My family had shown me how to execute a salute with my hand held to my brow at the proper angle. Jee must not have had the benefit of that early training. I’d have to take him aside and show him how if no one else got to it first.
The officer of the deck inspected Jee’s ID. His smile looked goofy in it, but she only grinned. “We all look terrible in our ID photos,” she remarked. “You’re good. And you?”
I presented mine for inspection. The woman’s lips moved as she looked at my name. Then her eyebrows lifted. “You’re not related to…?”
I lowered my eyes despite wishing I could stare her into silence. It would have been improper on more than one level, though. I was going to be a cadet, and she was an ensign. She was doing her job. And beyond matters of rank, at thirteen I was definitely her junior.
Ensign Hak caught the other ensign’s eye and shook her head minutely. I wasn’t sure why Hak had intervened, but I silently thanked her. Surely Hak already knew of my connection to Uncle Hwan. At least she hadn’t made an issue of it earlier.
“I’m sure the captain knows,” the officer of the deck muttered, giving the ID a faint scowl. Then she waved her hand at the ramp. “Up you go.”
I couldn’t calm the juddering of my heart as I walked up the ramp, trying for dignity and probably failing. Jee didn’t even do that much. He gave a little hop and skip as he crossed from the ramp onto the deck of the ship proper. Ensign Hak accompanied us, her expression amused.
“That’s right, Cadet,” Ensign Hak said. “Enjoy that shiny excited feeling while it lasts.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Jee asked as he looked around, wide-eyed, at the airlock. It could have accommodated some twenty people. Every inch of it shone.
Ensign Hak snickered. “You’ll find out. Ah, Special Investigator, I’ll have someone of a more elevated status escort you and your assistant to special quarters.” She raised her voice. “Lieutenant Rhee! We’ve got that special guest we were holding for, sir!”
Wait a second, I thought. Hadn’t Yi said that the Haetae had been delayed because of a resupply issue? Something didn’t add up. This time, though, I kept my thoughts to myself.
The lieutenant appeared. “Special Investigator, what an honor,” she said, bowing obsequiously. “We have the most luxurious guest cabins available for your use, and…” Her voice trailed off as Yi and Min followed her.
Strangely, the lieutenant’s exaggerated deference eased the earlier stab of envy I’d felt. I didn’t want to be a cosseted guest on the Haetae, after all. I wanted to be a working member of the crew, no matter how junior.
“You two,” Ensign Hak said briskly, “come with me. The first item on the list is to get you in proper uniforms. It’s a pity the ones at the base were no good.”
Hak adroitly picked her way through the maze of corridors, which were wide enough for four abreast. We fell in behind her. “We’ll have to visit the quartermaster,” she added.
A tone sounded from the intercom. “All hands, prepare to lift off.”
Hak kept us moving. Evidently the Haetae was more advanced than the transport I’d taken to get here, with an anti-gravity system that meant we didn’t need to be strapped in for launch. I felt a humming through the deckplate that increased and then leveled off, but no sense of movement.
I snatched glances at my surroundings as we went. The ship gleamed like a knife newly forged. I scarcely spotted any scuffs on the deck. Everything had been meticulously polished. A good sign, even if I was going to take part in the meticulous polishing soon. Still, the bulkheads were austere, with no decorations like there had been in the starbase, just numbers and letters labeling the passageways.
I memorized our path, although my usual reliance on landscape and scent cues wasn’t going to help me much. I hoped we would receive maps later. It wouldn’t make sense for more senior crew members to have to escort a couple of cadets everywhere, after all.
Other crew members passed us, whether they were walking in the same direction only to peel off at the junctures, or heading in the direction from which we’d just come. I struggled to keep my attention on our route instead of being distracted by all the strangers. Especially since, once the initial dazzlement wore off, I felt increasingly as though I’d been abandoned in enemy territory.
It wasn’t an irrational response, but I disliked myself for it anyway. Sure, the officer of the deck had spotted the connection between me and my uncle. But she hadn’t opened her mouth about it, thanks to Ensign Hak. And Jee hadn’t noticed anything wrong.
The captain will know, I thought. Not that I even knew who our captain was.
Ensign Hak had reached the quartermaster’s office. Quartermaster Yang was a poised woman who wouldn’t have looked out of place on a recruiting poster. After we saluted, Hak pointed at Jee and me and launched into an explanation in sign language. I recognized a couple of the simplest signs—urgent, clothes. The government’s official news channels included sign language interpreters, and I’d been curious enough to look up a few words, mostly to compare it to the military tactical sign language I was learning from Aunt Sooni. I wondered if sign language was in common use on this particular ship. I hadn’t heard of any such thing on Uncle Hwan’s battle cruiser.
The quartermaster signed back to Hak, then motioned to Jee and me. Jee and I stepped up after a moment’s hesitation. “Sir,” I said to her, making sure I faced her so she could read my lips. To be honest, everything I knew about reading lips came from Great-Uncle Myung, who had taught me that it was handy when spying, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.
Yang smiled but shook her head and pointed at her eyes. “You can talk to me normally,” she said aloud. “Hak’s just showing off. My contact lenses turn everything into text I can read—that was the only way they’d let me into space. Right, I need some measurements from the two of you.”
After our measurements were taken, the quartermaster disappeared into the back. Jee asked Hak in an undertone, “Do we get to learn sign language, too?”
Hak said, “If you have the free time and inclination, it never hurts. My mothers are Deaf, so I grew up with it. I’m convinced that’s why they assigned me to this particular ship—so Yang has someone to talk to in her own language.”
The quartermaster emerged with two full kit bags. “ ‘These should fit. Now out with you. I have to double-check inventory.’”
“Thank you, sir,” I said directly to Quartermaster Yang, determined not to offend the person who controlled my clothes, to say nothing of our food supplies and armaments. I wasn’t under any illusions that cadets would be allowed to engage in live-fire weapons training, but a tiger could dream.
Yang smiled again and waved us off.
“I’ll show you to your bunks so you can get changed,” Hak said, “and then the senior cadets can orient you.”
Jee perked up. “How many of us are there, sir?”
“Just two more at present,” Ensign Hak said as she herded us along. “Namkyu and Euna. You’ll like them.”
“Of course I will,” Jee said with a confidence that made me smile. He was the kind of person who made friends with everyone. I hoped I’d get along with the other cadets, too.
“Cadet bunks are on level three,” Hak added casually. “We’ll have to take an elevator to get there.” She indicated one down the hall, and we picked up our pace.
“We’ll get a map at some point, sir?” I asked. I was trying to get a sense of the ship’s layout as a whole, and mostly what I had so far was It’s really big. I had a good memory, but there were no cues like unusual rocks and interesting trees, or scent marks and trails laid down by other tigers to help me.
“Yeah, the older cadets will fill you in,” Hak said. “It’s in your training materials, and—”
An alert chimed from the intercom system, and Jee jumped. “The ship is preparing to Gate,” said a low, stern voice. “All hands prepare for Gating.”
“Relax, kid,” Hak said. “The Haetae is more modern than even most Kestrel battle cruisers. It just came out of the shipyard last year. It’s not like the old days, or some of the older ships, where you’d have to strap into a gel couch. You’ll scarcely notice the Gate effects.”
Jee’s face fell. I knew I had a similar expression, despite my less than pleasant experience on the way to the starbase. We didn’t want Gating to be ordinary. We wanted Gating on our first battle cruiser posting to be special.
Ensign Hak took pity on us. “I suppose a couple minutes’ delay won’t hurt,” she said. Instead of heading straight for the elevator, she diverted us to a viewport.
A broad-shouldered spacer was already there, presumably off-duty. “Move over, will you?” Hak said with steely geniality. “First-timers.”
The spacer sighed. “Of course, sir. We shouldn’t ever disappoint the first-timers.” But as they ambled aside, they winked at us.
Jee and I pressed our noses to the viewport. I didn’t want to lose my dignity in front of the crew, but this was going to be my one and only first Gating!
We would probably have to Gate several times to reach our final destination. Each planetary system’s Gate connected it to a few nearby ones, so it was a matter of playing connect-the-dots to get from one location to another.
The first thing I noticed was that we were already in space. Liftoff had occurred so seamlessly that I had barely noticed the transition. I assumed that magical technology had smoothed the Haetae’s accelerations as it lifted off from the starbase. We were already far enough beyond the atmosphere that the stars shone cold and clear, without the haze or twinkling effect you’d see from groundside.
An iridescent glow washed over the glitter-jewel stars in their field of black. I almost forgot to breathe. It was beautiful in the way of pearl and abalone, beautiful in the way of unimaginable treasure. Yet it also woke a deep sensation of foreboding in my chest, as though the glow hid unnamed dangers.
“Good,” Hak said, a soft tinge to her voice. She wasn’t unaffected by the sight, either.
All that, and we still hadn’t been sworn in. Maybe it’s an omen, I thought, but at the time I’d meant it as a joke.
The next hour passed in a blur. When I looked back on the preparations later, I was surprised they took that long. Back home, my parents always had a small bag packed for me in case we had to evacuate the family estate at a moment’s notice. “It’s the emergency you don’t predict that’s dangerous,” Nini liked to say. Later, when I was older, they showed me the estate’s stockpiles and how to pack emergency supplies for myself. If something did go wrong, I could stuff everything in a bag and be on my way in under fifteen minutes—under ten if things really got bad.
Other people, even in the Space Forces, didn’t appear to have this level of preparedness drilled into them. I wondered if my family was unusual. I hoped not. It had always been impressed on me that I would have to prove myself to the Space Forces, not the other way around.
You’re getting ahead of yourself, I thought as I filled out another set of forms at a worn table. I wasn’t sure why we couldn’t have gotten this out of the way when we were dealing with the first set. The lieutenant who’d intercepted us on the way to the Haetae’s docking bay, a dour-faced man, had insisted that we couldn’t board without the proper papers, since neither Jee nor I had a naval ID yet, and Yi didn’t want to go scrambling for a senior officer to override the guards.
Jee, less inhibited, had asked the lieutenant, “Is there a reason we couldn’t have done this earlier, sir? Some of the questions are even the same as on the form we’ve already filled out.”
The lieutenant sighed. “The regs are the regs, worm egg.”
“Sir?” Jee looked confused.
The lieutenant pursed his lips. “Remember, there are three kinds of people in the Space Forces—officers, noncoms, and worms. Guess which one you are?”
Yi shook their head as if at a tired old joke. “You’re not even sworn in yet, Jee. Hence worm eggs.”
“Anyway, hurry up with those forms,” the lieutenant said, tapping his stylus against my side of the table.
I kept myself from twitching in response. “Done,” I said, handing him my slate. I tensed up when he glanced at it, wondering if he’d comment on my relationship to Uncle Hwan.
The lieutenant typed rapidly once we’d finished the forms, then nodded. “Congratulations, you’ve passed the security check,” he said, although he didn’t sound congratulatory at all. He had us pose for ID photos. The desk beeped several times, then spat out cards, and he passed them over to us.
I fought to suppress my grin. An ID of my own, with my new rank on it. Cadet. Or my rank once I was sworn in, I supposed. This was extremely irregular.
“Ship’s stores can provide uniforms,” the lieutenant went on. “We did have a couple sent down, but no one thought to check your sizes and they’re, uh…One looks like it was made for a seven-foot giant, and the other, well, besides being made for someone who didn’t meet the minimum height requirements in their human shape, it has holes in it, and I don’t mean the ones your body parts are supposed to go through.”
Min looked severe. “We’ll have to write this up in our report.”
The lieutenant laughed in her face. “Please. You Domestic Security types may swan around in your fancy outfits”—my gaze swept involuntarily to Yi’s ridiculous utility boots—“and you may get all the fancy tech toys, but you don’t have jurisdiction.”
Still, I smelled his aggravation. It suggested that Yi and Min had more power here than the lieutenant wanted to admit.
“Now, Min, don’t vex our colleague,” Yi murmured.
That only made the lieutenant’s aggravation smell stronger. He had the sense not to provoke a confrontation, though.
Once the paperwork was taken care of, we were finally escorted by the lieutenant, with Ensign Hak in tow, to the Haetae’s docking bay. Yi flashed their badge at more guards, with the same result each time.
“You’re expected, Investigator,” one of the guards said to Yi. “Good hunting out there.”
Yi smiled benevolently. “Much appreciated. I never turn down good luck.”
I didn’t know how many docking bays the naval base contained and sensed that it was better not to ask. We passed through enclosed walkways, each with their walls painted heaven-blue and adorned with fortuitous symbols like peach blossoms, until we reached the one we wanted. After one final check of my new credentials, the guards allowed us through.
I’d thought I was prepared for the sight of a battle cruiser, even one groundside. I was wrong. My breath caught at the sheer size of it.
The Haetae was vast, all black and silver and aggressive angles. Painted on the side was a haetae, its namesake, a creature with the body of a lion, scales, and a horn jutting out of its forehead. Haetae were supposed to protect people from disasters, especially those due to fire, and to bring law and order. It was a fortunate name for a starship.
I’d spent long hours poring over different warship classes, committing their appearances to memory. With its triangular silhouette, the Haetae must’ve belonged to the Kestrel class, capable of atmospheric flight as well as maneuvers in space. I was just as impressed by its armaments, which included missile ports and gun turrets. When someone got around to swearing me in, I would be part of its crew.
Someday, I swore to myself, I’ll be a captain, too. Maybe not of a ship this impressive, but I had to start somewhere.
“Look at those scramblers,” Min said in an aside to Jee and me, interrupting my daydreaming. “They help protect the base from aerial and orbital surveillance.”
I was annoyed that I hadn’t noticed them earlier. Someone had installed them at regular intervals around the bay.
“Do you work with a lot of technology?” I asked. I was obviously fishing for information. But if I had to work with Min in the future, I wanted to know her capabilities. I had the feeling I’d be seeing a lot more of her once we were underway.
She smirked at me, and my dislike of her intensified. “It’s part of the job. I’m good at tech. But there should be plenty of people in the crew qualified to take care of that, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure,” I said, as blandly as I could manage. She wrinkled her nose at me.
The Haetae’s main boarding ramp stood open. Someone in an ensign’s uniform, presumably the officer of the deck responsible for boarding, was waving at us to hurry up.
Yi swept ahead with Min walking by their side. I hoped I’d be able to get a good look at Yi’s badge when we checked in. Jee and I brought up the rear, clutching our IDs.
Ensign Hak exchanged a few words with the officer of the deck while I sniffed surreptitiously at the latter. Human, like Jee. Still, I couldn’t underestimate her. Among other things, she had a blaster belted to her side, and I bet she knew how to use it.
The officer of the deck turned to Yi and Min. “IDs, please.”
This time I finally got a glimpse of Yi’s badge, even if from the back. It was a circle with a rim that flashed gold. Perhaps aware of my curiosity, they tilted it, and my eyes widened. Not just Domestic Security, but a member of a special task force. Min had a similar badge, without the gold rim, presumably because she was lower-ranking.
I suppressed a stab of envy. Not that I had any interest in working for Domestic Security. Among other things, you didn’t get a ship that way. But Min looked fairly young, only a few years older than I was, and she was already accompanying a special investigator on an important mission. Whereas I was likely to be chopping vegetables or scrubbing the deck for weeks at a time.
Don’t get impatient, I chided myself. It was important for every member of the crew—even a would-be future captain—to become familiar with the ship’s workings and maintenance. Besides, I was no stranger to hard work. And I was sure that hard work was what it would take.
We were next. Jee saluted the officer of the deck clumsily and I tried not to criticize him in my head. My family had shown me how to execute a salute with my hand held to my brow at the proper angle. Jee must not have had the benefit of that early training. I’d have to take him aside and show him how if no one else got to it first.
The officer of the deck inspected Jee’s ID. His smile looked goofy in it, but she only grinned. “We all look terrible in our ID photos,” she remarked. “You’re good. And you?”
I presented mine for inspection. The woman’s lips moved as she looked at my name. Then her eyebrows lifted. “You’re not related to…?”
I lowered my eyes despite wishing I could stare her into silence. It would have been improper on more than one level, though. I was going to be a cadet, and she was an ensign. She was doing her job. And beyond matters of rank, at thirteen I was definitely her junior.
Ensign Hak caught the other ensign’s eye and shook her head minutely. I wasn’t sure why Hak had intervened, but I silently thanked her. Surely Hak already knew of my connection to Uncle Hwan. At least she hadn’t made an issue of it earlier.
“I’m sure the captain knows,” the officer of the deck muttered, giving the ID a faint scowl. Then she waved her hand at the ramp. “Up you go.”
I couldn’t calm the juddering of my heart as I walked up the ramp, trying for dignity and probably failing. Jee didn’t even do that much. He gave a little hop and skip as he crossed from the ramp onto the deck of the ship proper. Ensign Hak accompanied us, her expression amused.
“That’s right, Cadet,” Ensign Hak said. “Enjoy that shiny excited feeling while it lasts.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Jee asked as he looked around, wide-eyed, at the airlock. It could have accommodated some twenty people. Every inch of it shone.
Ensign Hak snickered. “You’ll find out. Ah, Special Investigator, I’ll have someone of a more elevated status escort you and your assistant to special quarters.” She raised her voice. “Lieutenant Rhee! We’ve got that special guest we were holding for, sir!”
Wait a second, I thought. Hadn’t Yi said that the Haetae had been delayed because of a resupply issue? Something didn’t add up. This time, though, I kept my thoughts to myself.
The lieutenant appeared. “Special Investigator, what an honor,” she said, bowing obsequiously. “We have the most luxurious guest cabins available for your use, and…” Her voice trailed off as Yi and Min followed her.
Strangely, the lieutenant’s exaggerated deference eased the earlier stab of envy I’d felt. I didn’t want to be a cosseted guest on the Haetae, after all. I wanted to be a working member of the crew, no matter how junior.
“You two,” Ensign Hak said briskly, “come with me. The first item on the list is to get you in proper uniforms. It’s a pity the ones at the base were no good.”
Hak adroitly picked her way through the maze of corridors, which were wide enough for four abreast. We fell in behind her. “We’ll have to visit the quartermaster,” she added.
A tone sounded from the intercom. “All hands, prepare to lift off.”
Hak kept us moving. Evidently the Haetae was more advanced than the transport I’d taken to get here, with an anti-gravity system that meant we didn’t need to be strapped in for launch. I felt a humming through the deckplate that increased and then leveled off, but no sense of movement.
I snatched glances at my surroundings as we went. The ship gleamed like a knife newly forged. I scarcely spotted any scuffs on the deck. Everything had been meticulously polished. A good sign, even if I was going to take part in the meticulous polishing soon. Still, the bulkheads were austere, with no decorations like there had been in the starbase, just numbers and letters labeling the passageways.
I memorized our path, although my usual reliance on landscape and scent cues wasn’t going to help me much. I hoped we would receive maps later. It wouldn’t make sense for more senior crew members to have to escort a couple of cadets everywhere, after all.
Other crew members passed us, whether they were walking in the same direction only to peel off at the junctures, or heading in the direction from which we’d just come. I struggled to keep my attention on our route instead of being distracted by all the strangers. Especially since, once the initial dazzlement wore off, I felt increasingly as though I’d been abandoned in enemy territory.
It wasn’t an irrational response, but I disliked myself for it anyway. Sure, the officer of the deck had spotted the connection between me and my uncle. But she hadn’t opened her mouth about it, thanks to Ensign Hak. And Jee hadn’t noticed anything wrong.
The captain will know, I thought. Not that I even knew who our captain was.
Ensign Hak had reached the quartermaster’s office. Quartermaster Yang was a poised woman who wouldn’t have looked out of place on a recruiting poster. After we saluted, Hak pointed at Jee and me and launched into an explanation in sign language. I recognized a couple of the simplest signs—urgent, clothes. The government’s official news channels included sign language interpreters, and I’d been curious enough to look up a few words, mostly to compare it to the military tactical sign language I was learning from Aunt Sooni. I wondered if sign language was in common use on this particular ship. I hadn’t heard of any such thing on Uncle Hwan’s battle cruiser.
The quartermaster signed back to Hak, then motioned to Jee and me. Jee and I stepped up after a moment’s hesitation. “Sir,” I said to her, making sure I faced her so she could read my lips. To be honest, everything I knew about reading lips came from Great-Uncle Myung, who had taught me that it was handy when spying, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.
Yang smiled but shook her head and pointed at her eyes. “You can talk to me normally,” she said aloud. “Hak’s just showing off. My contact lenses turn everything into text I can read—that was the only way they’d let me into space. Right, I need some measurements from the two of you.”
After our measurements were taken, the quartermaster disappeared into the back. Jee asked Hak in an undertone, “Do we get to learn sign language, too?”
Hak said, “If you have the free time and inclination, it never hurts. My mothers are Deaf, so I grew up with it. I’m convinced that’s why they assigned me to this particular ship—so Yang has someone to talk to in her own language.”
The quartermaster emerged with two full kit bags. “ ‘These should fit. Now out with you. I have to double-check inventory.’”
“Thank you, sir,” I said directly to Quartermaster Yang, determined not to offend the person who controlled my clothes, to say nothing of our food supplies and armaments. I wasn’t under any illusions that cadets would be allowed to engage in live-fire weapons training, but a tiger could dream.
Yang smiled again and waved us off.
“I’ll show you to your bunks so you can get changed,” Hak said, “and then the senior cadets can orient you.”
Jee perked up. “How many of us are there, sir?”
“Just two more at present,” Ensign Hak said as she herded us along. “Namkyu and Euna. You’ll like them.”
“Of course I will,” Jee said with a confidence that made me smile. He was the kind of person who made friends with everyone. I hoped I’d get along with the other cadets, too.
“Cadet bunks are on level three,” Hak added casually. “We’ll have to take an elevator to get there.” She indicated one down the hall, and we picked up our pace.
“We’ll get a map at some point, sir?” I asked. I was trying to get a sense of the ship’s layout as a whole, and mostly what I had so far was It’s really big. I had a good memory, but there were no cues like unusual rocks and interesting trees, or scent marks and trails laid down by other tigers to help me.
“Yeah, the older cadets will fill you in,” Hak said. “It’s in your training materials, and—”
An alert chimed from the intercom system, and Jee jumped. “The ship is preparing to Gate,” said a low, stern voice. “All hands prepare for Gating.”
“Relax, kid,” Hak said. “The Haetae is more modern than even most Kestrel battle cruisers. It just came out of the shipyard last year. It’s not like the old days, or some of the older ships, where you’d have to strap into a gel couch. You’ll scarcely notice the Gate effects.”
Jee’s face fell. I knew I had a similar expression, despite my less than pleasant experience on the way to the starbase. We didn’t want Gating to be ordinary. We wanted Gating on our first battle cruiser posting to be special.
Ensign Hak took pity on us. “I suppose a couple minutes’ delay won’t hurt,” she said. Instead of heading straight for the elevator, she diverted us to a viewport.
A broad-shouldered spacer was already there, presumably off-duty. “Move over, will you?” Hak said with steely geniality. “First-timers.”
The spacer sighed. “Of course, sir. We shouldn’t ever disappoint the first-timers.” But as they ambled aside, they winked at us.
Jee and I pressed our noses to the viewport. I didn’t want to lose my dignity in front of the crew, but this was going to be my one and only first Gating!
We would probably have to Gate several times to reach our final destination. Each planetary system’s Gate connected it to a few nearby ones, so it was a matter of playing connect-the-dots to get from one location to another.
The first thing I noticed was that we were already in space. Liftoff had occurred so seamlessly that I had barely noticed the transition. I assumed that magical technology had smoothed the Haetae’s accelerations as it lifted off from the starbase. We were already far enough beyond the atmosphere that the stars shone cold and clear, without the haze or twinkling effect you’d see from groundside.
An iridescent glow washed over the glitter-jewel stars in their field of black. I almost forgot to breathe. It was beautiful in the way of pearl and abalone, beautiful in the way of unimaginable treasure. Yet it also woke a deep sensation of foreboding in my chest, as though the glow hid unnamed dangers.
“Good,” Hak said, a soft tinge to her voice. She wasn’t unaffected by the sight, either.
All that, and we still hadn’t been sworn in. Maybe it’s an omen, I thought, but at the time I’d meant it as a joke.
