Defender: The Divine Courage Trilogy Book 1, page 6
“No, not always. Usually, I’m training or hanging out with Vallen, so I just go barefoot. But it’s a different story if there’s a chance that I might get my picture taken,” the girl answered
“And what was that like?” Brecker asked. “Training with General Maxwell?”
“Well, I can tell you that if Cam hadn’t insisted on me getting treated with my own personal dermis gun, I would be covered in scars. But,” she added, “he has his fair share from me too.”
At some point, the dishes were cleared away and Loxly was forced to pull out his communicator. He messed around on the screen, and something in Mr. Chin’s pocket chimed. Mr. Chin just nodded his head and told them to enjoy their evening. Jing peeked her head out from around the kitchen door, a bit of sauce on her chin, and called, “Bye-bye Loxly!”
He blew her a kiss and she giggled.
“You’re good with kids,” the girl said.
“Of course he is,” interrupted Hinlee. “He still is one.”
Hinlee and Loxly bickered the whole way back to the common room. Soren had hoped that the girl would pay attention so that no one would have to show her around in the morning, but it would seem that the day’s events and a belly full of food were just too much for her. Soren watched her ankles wobble dangerously in her heels, and she stumbled more than once. Her shirt hung loosely on her right shoulder, a pin in the back barely clinging to the fabric.
When they reached the common room, Hinlee locked elbows with her and pulled her down the hall to either her new room or the showers. She could take care of the girl for the rest of the night. In the morning, he would look to see whose schedule was open first thing. They could show her around and be done with it. He walked to his room, already exhausted thinking about tomorrow. He couldn’t get his boots off and fall onto his bed soon enough.
CHAPTER 6
Larken hadn’t wanted to shower again, but the woman, Hinlee, had pointed out that she should if she didn’t want her pillow to smell like fuel. And now, as she stretched and buried her face in it, she was glad she had. Larken closed her eyes and just started drifting back off when a loud knock sounded at her door, with a rude, “Get up.”
That voice.
That obnoxious voice.
Larken hated that it was equal parts grating and knee-weakening. She sat up, looking at the door, and made the ugliest face that she could. She hoped that being woken up by men who annoyed her didn’t become the norm.
Larken stretched, her right shoulder popping as she did. She groaned at the sudden pain and rubbed the tight muscle until it dissipated. Her body felt a little sore, reminding her of the crash the day before, but it was dull enough that she could trick herself into thinking Vallen had just pushed her a little harder in a workout.
Looking around her room, she slumped. Everything was a light and colorless tan, like a slab of clay that had hardened in the sun. The walls were bare, and the floor felt cold against her feet. She would have to invest in a rug or something, and a better mattress. Standing, she looked for anything that resembled the little metal vat that Hinlee had pulled clothes out of for her the night before. The makeshift pajamas she wore were Brecker’s. Hinlee had offered some of her own, but she had the build of a young boy. When Larken had held up one of Hinlee’s shirts to her chest, the soldier had just laughed and led her to Brecker’s room. Brecker, she had found out, was in a relationship with Hinlee. Which made sense, because he had stared at her throughout their entire meal the night before.
There was another knock, but Larken ignored it, still looking for the iron latch. She looked over each wall, unable to find it. Every other minute, another annoyed knock sounded at the door. When she had reached Captain Soren Deckard’s breaking point, he pounded on the door and barked, “Cadet Hale!”
Annoyed as well, she marched up to the door and pulled it open. He glared, his eyes flashing gold, and she glared back. “What is taking you so long?”
“I was fixing my makeup.” She crossed her arms. “What do you think? I can’t find that stupid clothes vat.”
As if suddenly realizing her lack of clothing, his eyes dropped to the oversized shirt that hung off her left shoulder and the pair of boxers that hugged her hips. His eyes shot back up, and he pushed his way into her room. He refused to look at her as he scanned her room. He sighed and moved to her bed. Grabbing the frame, he pulled it to the opposite wall, revealing the vat.
“They should already have your measurements. Hurry up,” he said, then stormed out of her room.
Larken gave a mock salute and muttered, “Aye, aye, Captain!”
She opened the vat and found a black tank top and a pair of grey pants that fit much more comfortably than the ones she had worn the previous day. Even though there weren’t any more knocks, Larken could feel Soren staring at her door. Pulling the top down her torso, she huffed at the hint of cleavage that showed. She pulled her shirt up but knew that there was no helping it. Shrugging, she grabbed the socks and boots that were still waiting for her in the vat. The boots pinched a little, but it was nothing that wouldn’t stretch in time. Hopping up after giving the last knot a rough tug, she opened the door.
Soren stood there, his arms crossed and a murderous scowl on his face. Larken crossed her own arms and let herself fall against her doorframe. Unable to resist poking the bear, Larken asked, “Got a brush?”
“No.”
“But how will I ever fix my hair?”
“Deal with it,” he said, pushing off the wall and starting down the hallway.
Larken followed and, noticing that Hinlee’s door was open, snagged an old and worn hair tie that she saw on her nightstand. She would buy Hinlee new ones to replace the one she took, if she wanted. Although, she didn’t think Hinlee would mind since her hair was too short to put up. Grabbing her snarled mane, Larken threw it up into a haphazard bun on the top of her head while asking, “You draw the short straw or somethin’?”
“Our dorm usually always has someone here. Your schedule will be broken up to accommodate gym time, combat training, first aid, time at the shooting range, basic mechanical work, specialized weapon training, meals, and one hour of recreational time. The squad members rotate time spent in the dorm, that way if there is an emergency, there will be someone to notify the rest of the squad. I was the first dorm shift today.”
“How unfortunate,” Larken teased.
Soren grunted and continued on his way. She had to jog a little to keep up with his long strides. When he stopped, she almost collided with him but decided that bumping into the wall would be better.
They were standing in front of what looked like a giant communicator that took up a section of the wall. The outer casing of the thing was a bright green that played off nicely against the aged yellow of the walls. Soren tapped the screen, and it went from a dormant black to a white screen that glowed blue. Larken noticed six names, with Soren Deckard at the top of the list and Larken Hale at the bottom.
“This is the Vendor,” Soren said, tapping her name. “This is where you will place all of your orders. Food, toiletries, weapon repairs, anything you need. You are responsible for all the meals that you don’t get at the cafeteria.”
“What do you guys do?”
“We all eat in the cafeteria when we can. Like Hinlee said last night, Levi is really the only one who can cook well,” he answered, hitting a little tab that looked like a picnic basket. “This is the food tab. In it, you will find everything that can be delivered to the base. You may have to acclimate your diet some.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Larken mused, more interested in the image of a bright yellow and pink apple just under Soren’s right hand. The memory of the tart flavor had her mouth watering, and she wanted some breakfast.
Soren only grunted like he didn’t believe her and continued. Pushing a little curved arrow, he went back to the home screen and hit a tab in the shape of a toothbrush. “Here, you will find all your toiletries. Again, you are only able to order what can be delivered to base.”
“Oh dear, what will I do without my diamond and gold-infused eyeshadow?”
Soren tapped the back button harder than she thought he needed to, and she snorted. Ignoring her, he said, “The T-shirt is for clothes repairs or special laundry orders; otherwise just stick your dirty clothes in the chute in your room. And the sword is for your weapons. Food is delivered on Mondays and Thursdays. Everything else is delivered on Fridays. Care packages, letters, and things like that are delivered on Sundays. Any questions?”
“Yeah, how do the tokens fit into the box?”
Soren stared at her blankly for a full minute before saying, “Maybe Loxly can help you figure it out since you two seem to think the same way.”
Larken laughed, impressed that he was able to get an actual jab in instead of just a grunt. When she regained control of her voice, she asked, “Seriously though, how does it work? Is it like a credit line or…?”
“You will receive a pin number to go with your military account. When you are ready to make a purchase, you will enter it for verification and it will automatically take the tokens from your account.”
“Nifty.”
“Sure,” Soren said, clearing the screen and starting back down the hall.
“When will I be able to order new stuff?”
“By the end of the day, I imagine.”
“But I thought Hinlee said that I wouldn’t be active for another four days? Well, three now, I guess.”
“Well then, I guess you better get friendly with your squadmates and see if anyone will lend you some tokens.”
“Okay,” she said, “but what about other things?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, how would I go about purchasing a rug?”
“A rug?” he scoffed.
“Hey, it’s not my fault I don’t have big macho toes like you do. Those floors are cold.”
His jaw ticked just like Vallen’s did when he was fighting a smile. Larken decided that making Captain Killjoy smile would be her goal for the day.
“There is an option under each tab on the Vendor for special requests. It’s probably under there. But Hinlee would probably know more about that than me.”
“So, you don’t know?”
“No, I don’t care.”
They entered the comfy-looking room she had walked through last night before hopping into the shower. Larken didn’t really pay it any notice since she was trying hard not to collapse from exhaustion. But looking at it now, she saw that there were three crimson couches surrounding a coffee table, facing a giant television. Everything was made up of worn wood and warm red paint. There was a billiards table, a dartboard, and a table off to the side that was large enough to seat six people. Off in one of the far corners, she could see the makings of a kitchen. Larken knew that this was the common room without having to be told. Everything about the place looked warm and inviting, and she wanted to sit on one of the couches just to see how far she would sink in. A faint smell of sweat filled the room, but it mostly smelled like fresh water. It was the same smell as stepping out of an aircraft at a lake and taking that first deep breath of summer. And even though she stood next to a grumbly military Captain, Larken felt more at home here than she ever had at the Manor.
“This is the common room. You can hang out here in your free time, or in your room, it doesn’t matter to us. The remote is first-come first-serve, as is the stereo. Keep in mind that this is a public area and should be treated as such.”
“No chillin’ in my undies, got it.”
Instead of a laugh, Soren choked and looked away. The tips of his ears went pink, and Larken had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Soren went to one of the couches and sat down. Larken followed and tried to get a good look at the tablet that sat on the coffee table. He picked it up and stuffed it in her hands. “You will be able to get a map on your new communicator. Someone will show you how to access it later, but for today, you can use this.”
They spent the next hour discussing the map and the certain areas she needed to familiarize herself with as soon as possible. Soren’s communicator chimed every now and then, but he ignored it, giving her his full attention. Larken would have thought that the attention was nice until she remembered that the only reason he was giving it to her was because he thought that she was incapable of figuring it all out on her own.
“So, do you have any questions?” he asked.
“For the meals, you said you all eat in the cafeteria. Do you get the food and bring it back here?”
“No.”
“But I thought that there had to be someone here at all times?”
“There has to be someone here to alert the squad if they are needed in the field. But we are all together in the cafeteria, so no one needs to be here. Not that we’re going to be called out anytime soon. You have to get your certifications first.”
“So why not schedule everything else the same so everyone is together all the time?”
“Because we would probably kill each other,” he said with a straight face.
“Oh.”
“Everyone excels at something. Hinlee is a great mechanic, Loxly is the best sharpshooter we have and a great pilot to boot, and Levi is the designated field-medic. They all go through the normal routines, but they also spend more time in the fields they are best at. So, you might only get six hours in the shooting range a week, but Loxly will get anywhere between twelve and eighteen. Your schedule differs from week to week, depending on what the program writes for you.”
“And you?”
“Me?”
“You’re a Captain, so what do your schedules look like?”
“My time is divided up among everything equally. I also have the least amount of free time.”
“So, there’s a chance that my schedule might look like that too?”
Soren laughed at that, but it was more malicious than jovial. “Not likely.”
“Why not?” she asked. The lack of food in her belly and her irritation were a bad combination, and she felt her temper rising.
“Look, Princess, I get that you were raised to believe that you were the best at everything, but—”
“First of all,” she barked, a fire shooting through her veins, “I never said I was the best. I just asked if there was a chance. I know I’m not the best, but Vallen never handed me anything either. I had to fight for every single one of my victories, and I would be more than happy to knock you onto your pompous backside to prove it to you.”
Soren glared daggers at her, his hazel eyes flashing gold.
“Second, my name is Larken. Not Princess, or Sweetheart, or Heiress. Larken. And the next time you try to belittle me for the family that I was born into, I won’t think twice about breaking your nose.”
The two glared at each other, breathing heavily for a moment, when someone broke the tension by clearing their throat. They both turned and found Hinlee and Loxly standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“What?” Soren barked.
“I’m here for my dorm shift,” Hinlee said.
“And I was asked to escort Miss Hale to lunch,” Loxly drawled.
Larken wanted to rage and tell him that he could escort himself somewhere unpleasant, but it wasn’t Loxly who had upset her, and she didn’t know the way to wherever Dominic was wanting to meet. So, she stood and said, “Thank you, Loxly.”
She ignored Soren as she walked past him, and she ignored the fact that his knees brushed her left leg as she did so. Hinlee gave her a small smile but then glared at Soren when she thought Larken had looked away.
At least someone is on my side.
CHAPTER 7
The two walked in silence for a long while, Larken still fuming and not paying attention to where they were going while she tried to drown out the chaotic sounds of Base 14 around her. It wasn’t until Loxly had to pull her away from colliding with someone that she let out a breath and forced herself to cool off. She was still huffing when Loxly asked, “You wanna talk about it?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She started rubbing at her right temple and groaned. Dropping her hand, she huffed, “It’s always like this. I shouldn’t be so upset.”
“I get it,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You wanted a fresh start, and you didn’t get the one you were expectin’. It’s okay to be upset about it.”
“It’s not though. I know better than to let it get to me. I just don’t know why he upsets me so much.”
Loxly sighed. “He’s just like that. When Levi joined, the two were constantly throwin' punches.”
“Really?”
“Well,” Loxly pulled a hand free and rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish look crossing his face, “that’s what I was told. I wasn’t actually here when Levi joined. I came three years after him. But, I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to break Soren’s nose my first week here.”
“Did he deserve it?”
“That’s not the point. The point is, he just has the kind of personality that rubs people the wrong way, but he isn’t so bad when you get to know him.”
For some reason, Larken was reminded of the hybrids that roamed the Manor grounds. No one wanted to go near them because they were afraid of getting their throats torn out. But they were the only ones that she found peace with apart from Buttercup or Vallen. Could it be that Soren was just like them? Deadly and abrasive, but also loving and loyal? None of the squad members seemed to have a problem with referring to him without his title, and they all seemed to care for him deeply. Even Levi, who seemed a bit standoffish. Maybe she was the one who needed to show him that he could trust her, and not the other way around.
“Feel free to tell me to mind my own business,” Loxly said.
“No.” Larken looked up into his dark eyes. “No, I’m glad you said something. I’m just letting it sink in, is all.”
“So, you aren’t goin’ to put in for a transfer?”
“I can do that?”
