Silberwing: Academia Draconia, #2

By Mae McKinnon

When your best friend happens to be a dragon, life is rarely boring.

 

If anything, Gaile feels that things have been a little TOO exciting lately. Now she and her wingpartner, Silber, are given the chance to go off-planet with the rest of their team for further training. But the core world of the Empire holds many secrets. Some of which might be closer than either of them think.

And then the accidents begin to happen...

 

Together with their new friends, they must try to rise to the challenge. Can any of them prove it doesn't matter who you are, only what you can do?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dragonquill Publishing
• Release date: Oct 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9789918955831

Mae McKinnon

Mae McKinnon is one of those people who can't stop writing (or, more accurately, thinking about writing because, let's be honest, there's never enough time) any more than they can stop breathing who they characters probably see as a pair of convenient hads to type up their stories.  The worlds thus created are filled with fantastical settings, creatures, people and events (and sarcam, lots of sarcasm). A good place to stop by if you like:  Sarcasm (we covered this one already, didn't we?) Found Family, Adventures, Friendships, DRAGONS, Neurodivergent MCs, Snarky characters, hope, outcasts, stunning vistas, humerous footnotes ... and did we mention DRAGONS? 

Book preview

SILBERWING

Academia Draconia: 2

Silberwing

A DragonQuill book

Copyright © 2020 by Mae McKinnon

The right of Mae McKinnon to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the prior permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons or events, either living or dead, is purely coincidental or used in a historical context.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Cover art & design by Marlene Ockersse

SOS Logo designed by Nightpark

First Printed in paperback by Lulu Inc in 2022

ISBN: 978-9918-9558-3-1

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Malta

DragonQuill Publishing

www.dragonsandquill.com

1  SEE ME NOW

*CLANG* *BOING* *BANG* *Clang* *Crash*

For every single noise, Gaile’s grimace got tighter and tighter. She might not be able to see what was unfolding out there in the dark, but she could imagine it.

The beam of her flashlight whipped over just in time to see several metal plates and saucers roll by the nearest wall cupboard, bounce against each other, and come to a halt, all while playing Stroud’s Ode to Gloings[*].

Something must have made that noise. Something was out there.

‘What are you doing?’ Gaile hissed into the dark.

She let the beam play over the surroundings. It looked like they’d walked into some sort of a kitchen. Before they’d entered it had probably been quite tidy. It certainly had a lot of shiny metal surfaces that the light reflected off. It sent spots dancing before her eyes.

‘Shhh,’ Gaile whispered as the beam found a silver dragonling standing on one of the countertops. One of his paws was trying to hold on to the last pot.

With the decency to at least look sheepish about it, he’d been the one who’d walked right into the stack of kitchenware after all, it slipped from his grasp.

It clanged its way down the top, hit the handle of a stove, and rolled in under a table to join its brethren.

Gaile rolled her eyes. ‘Great, now all the pots are on the floor! What a stupendously good job we’re doing! We’re supposed to be quiet, remember?’

Taking care to avoid tripping over any other escaped utensils, Gaile picked her way over to the countertop the dragonling was standing on.

For a moment, the only sounds were those of her and the dragonling’s breathing. He clacked several talons against the steel top, as if trying to tell her something.

Considering he was only approximately the size of a housecat he was projecting quite the commanding presence. You might even have been led to believe he was the one in charge.

He certainly thought so.

‘What happened to us trying to do this without getting caught, Silber?’ Gaile said dryly. She didn’t dare raise her voice in here.

Rather than replying, the dragonling stretched his wings, leapt up, changed his mind halfway through landing on the centre island of cooking tops, and dashed off through the room instead, taking the opportunity to leap off and over any obstacles.

Considering the noise he’d made earlier, this time you could barely hear a sound. Possibly, if you hadn’t known he was there, you might not have heard him at all.

As they reached the far end of the room, Silber chirped encouragingly at his partner in crime.

The beam of light swung around and directly into his eyes causing him to make an indignant squeak of surprise.

‘Sorry. Sorry,’ Gaile said. ‘I’m coming. I’m a little nervous, okay? Some of us don’t have darkvision, you know.’

Silber made a small draconic noise, as if to say that, right now, neither did he! In fact, all he could see were splotches of yellow starflares and they were blurry as anything.

Grumbling reproachfully, he waited by the door until his companion caught up.

Anyway, the kitchen wasn’t what they were here for and they hadn’t expected to wander into one.

Gaile banged her head into a low hanging beam. ‘Ouch!’ she exclaimed, rubbing at her forehead. This one hadn’t been of the light variety. This one was definitely steel. It still succeeded in making you see stars.

What it was doing stretched over the far end of a kitchen at less than head height was anyone’s guess.

‘Whoever designed this place should die!’ Gaile muttered.

After a bit of searching, Gaile found the right panel switch. She pressed it and the door before them swung open.

The next moment, the small, lithe, body had vanished from the countertop. Instead, hugging the floor, slinking through the dark opening the moment it was big enough for him, the dragonling was off ... again.

‘Hey!’ Gaile half shouted, half whispered, after him.

Silber took the extra moment before his partner caught up to eye up the next room with the help of what little light slipped through the opening door.

It was usually a minor inconvenience that his darkvision actually required the presence of some light to work. Right now, he wished it didn’t. It was hard to make anything out.

He walked into a foot stool lurking in the shadows. A major inconvenience, yes, that’s what it was. He shook his behorned head, trying to clear it.

So far, things were going less than stellar.

There were things hanging from the ceiling. He couldn’t make out exactly what they were, but if they were on hooks, he didn’t trust that flying up and then leaping from one to the next was the best, or quietest, way forward.

Trouble was, when you were less than a quarter of a meter tall, you couldn’t exactly just reach up and flick the switches or pick things off the walls.

Thankfully, his wings took care of most things and what those didn’t solve, there was literally nothing he couldn’t climb, with the right incentive, of course.

His clear, blue, eyes returned to another set of countertops. He leapt, landed gracefully, and began strolling down the top. It might look like he walked as if he owned the place but each step was actually carefully considered before a paw was put down.

At least, that’s what he always claimed.

From somewhere behind, behind the beacon of light, came a, ‘Silber? Silber? What are you doing?’

By the sounds of it, his partner was even less than impressed with the situation than he was. She usually saved the sarcasm for when they were alone.

‘Oh, great. Another kitchen,’ Gaile scoffed. ‘What did we walk into? New Retmia’s Domestic and Commercial Kitchen Convention?’

Aha! The dragonling peered into the shadows. Something about this whole setup felt wrong. It was too perfect. Too clean.

Silber closed his eyes and concentrated.

Technically he knew he didn’t have to close his eyes for this, but it always made him feel better about it. For some reason, if he didn’t, the experience always made him nauseous.

Not that he’d ever let anyone know that.

What he really should have remembered, right now, was that some people really didn’t like surprises.

‘Aaaargh!’

The shout came from behind him, quickly followed by the clatter as the rolled up diom acting as a flash light hit the floor, spun several times and wedged itself between a stack of crates.

‘Don’t DO that!’ Gaile shouted and shook a tiny fist at him. She’d practically bounced off the suddenly much larger body in front of her, having had no warning.

Sera hit the panel switch beside the next door. There were no windows in this room, so it wasn’t likely that anyone would notice. As the room lit up, every light was long, oblong and dangling on wires from the ceiling.

Not that they could see the ceiling. When you looked up, all you could do was squint in the intense light.

There was no hiding the small smirk that hovered around his mouth though as Gaile, staring fixatedly at a point somewhere over his left shoulder, tossed him one of the satchels she’d been carrying slung over her back.

He caught it effortlessly.

Was he detecting a faint pink hue to her face? How adorable.

‘Get dressed will you!’ Gaile snapped.

Sera chuckled as he pulled a white shirt over his head, then buckled the belts on his trousers and fished out the black boots that went with the uniform. Finishing off by pulling an almost sky blue overcoat out of the satchel, his nose twitched when imagining all the wrinkles it’d have after having been stuffed in there.

But it had been the only way. There was no chance they’d have gotten through the front door in time without ... special ... attention.

‘Don’t forget why we’re here,’ Gaile said.

‘Not likely,’ Sera replied. ‘Not with you reminding me every five minutes. I’m surprised you haven’t set off a sensor alarm by now. Do you even realize, you talk to yourself on these excursions — all the time!’

‘Well, if someone didn’t go on ahead and keep leaving me behind, I wouldn’t have to. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t speak ‘eeep’.’

‘We’re supposed to be professionals,’ Sera admonished her.

‘Professionals. Bah. We’re still in training, remember?’ Gaile countered. ‘And I didn’t have anyone to talk to for a long time. Not everyone’s content with spending their alone time, which I feel I should point out was all my time, in quiet contemplation looking grumpy.’

‘I do not look grumpy when I’m relaxing,’ Sera huffed. ‘And if you had as many people jabbering away in your ears all day, every day, you’d be grateful for what quiet you’d be able to steal.’

‘Maybe that’s because some of us don’t walk around pretending we’re a gothic romance painting come to life,’ Gaile said.  

‘I—

The budding argument was brought to a sudden close as industrial lights sprung into life, flooding everything in the entire complex in sharp contrast.

Shading her eyes, Gaile tried to look up. Spots were dancing in front of her eyes.

This seemed to be happening a lot today. Beside her, Sera remained still, stoic even. His only reaction was taking the time to tuck some of his long silvery hair behind an ear.

It wasn’t having it, falling straight down to his waist the moment he let it go.

There was, coming from above, the slow clapping of hands. It had that distinct sarcastic feel to it, suggesting the opposite of what you usually received applause for.

‘Excellent work,’ Tam’s voice called out from the same vicinity as the clapping. ‘If your mission had been to get captured on purpose, that is.’

‘What mission?’ Gaile grumbled. ‘Infiltrating KitchenCon 3000? Because the world depends on us training to be able to save it from an extra dangerous toaster?’

If their teacher heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it.

‘If you two spent as much time practicing to work together on these things as you do on arguing, you’d be one of the top teams in the world,’ Tam told them. ‘How you two ended up as wingpartners is a mystery to us all.’

On some days it felt as much a mystery to the two people in question, too. The rest of the time, well, they didn’t question it. Some things just happen.

It was about the only thing they didn’t question.

‘Alright, everyone,’ Tam’s strong voice called out. ‘Reset the scene. Let’s take this from the beginning. Next team, please.’

Around them, people started appearing and what had looked like not one but several kitchens were revealed to be just one jumbled maze of doors leading into rooms leading into other rooms.

Some had windows that didn’t lead outside, they led into another room.

Of course, seeing how the whole structure was built on a rotating platform on the floor of a disused old hangar, any window on it wasn’t going to face outside no matter how hard they tried.

‘Off to the back of the line for you two,’ Tam ordered the two students. ‘And do try to remember that the whole reason why we’re training is so that you don’t make these mistakes in the field!’

‘It’s still stupid,’ Gaile muttered rebelliously. She clipped her diom back onto her wrist.

Sera tried tucking his hair behind an ear again, wishing the survival pack included a hairbrush. He had to settle for running his fingers through it, trying to untangle a particularly difficult snarl. Then he gave his wingpartner a reassuring pat on a shoulder.

‘Look on the bright side,’ he said ‘We can’t make more of a mess on a second run through.’

Gaile looked dubious. ‘Want to bet?’ she asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow at him.

He didn’t. While they made a formidable team in flight, on the ground it was a different matter entirely. It was difficult to get away to practice when you weren’t supposed to even know each other, officially that was. It was only a small comfort that several of their other teammates had similar difficulties.

Not strange, perhaps, considering that none of them had been wingpartners for very long or the even odder circumstances in which both partnerships and even the team itself had formed.

But that had been last year. They should have improved by now.

Albeit it had all come to a conclusion at the very end of the year, Sera reminded himself. There had barely been more than a few months since then. Perhaps not enough time to grow into a cohesive unit. Odd, he thought. It felt longer.  

SEEING HOW THE REST of their little team fared at the exercise, it wasn’t that surprising when Tam, over lunch a few days later, announced that they were all going to go away.

It was probably equally unsurprising that considering the way he phrased it, four pairs of wide, panicky eyes met his as the words left his mouth.

‘No. No. Not like that!’ Tam was quick to assure them. ‘To another planet. Visiting, I mean.’

‘Oh,’ Drak rumbled, returning to the mashed potatoes on his plate. ‘Too bad.’

Drak and his wingpartner had fared even worse than Gaile and Silber on that last training exercise. Jim, who was small and easily the most agile of them all, and who shouldn’t have had any trouble at all, had gotten carried away.

No surprise there, Gaile thought.

No one was quite sure what had happened, but when the lights had been turned back on after the set sounding as if it was collapsing in on itself, both of them had been buried underneath a whole set of pots and pans[†].

Running his finger through the, at the moment, blond mop on top of his head, Jim laughed. ‘You take things too seriously, buddy,’ he said, slapping his companion on the shoulder.

‘A trip in space could be exciting,’ Dayu, sitting a couple of seats away, agreed.

‘You only think that ‘cause you’ve never been on one,’ Akia, his wingpartner, said.

‘You say that about everything,’ Dayu countered.

From the other side of the table, Tiosh threw his own wingpartner a dirty look. "This was your idea", his dark eyes seemed to say. He, along with Tam, were supposed to be the team-leaders here. The teachers. It was certainly the role they played for the rest of the academy. Herding large groups of unruly students and dragons were turning out to have been a breeze in comparison he was beginning to realize.

‘Relax, Wraithy,’ Tam said later. ‘It’ll be fine.’

Tiosh nearly lost it. ‘Really? You want to take this undisciplined bunch of troublemakers extraordinaire not only to space, but to go visit the very core of the Empire? Tam? Have you lost your friggin mind?’

‘What? They’ve got DRCs there too,’ Tam said.

‘Yes, that’s exactly my point,’ Tiosh said. He sank back into a comfortable armchair in his own quarters where the two of them had holed up trying to figure out the lesson plans for this trip. ‘They do have Dragon Research Centres. The oldest ones in the Empire, in fact.’

‘Is that a problem?’ Tam frowned, trying to figure out what his wingpartner was so worked up about.

‘For an experienced team, no. But this lot. Come on! Just a year ago they weren’t even a team!’

The outburst caused Tam to double over with laughter, the amber liquid in his glass sloshing over onto the white carpet.

‘Whoops.’

‘I can’t imagine what you’re thinking,’ Tiosh said.

‘What? Not even after all these years?’ Tam ducked, but still didn’t manage to avoid the kitchen towel to his face. Removing it, he chuckled. ‘You’re right. Of course you’re right. And if they’d been anything like the rest of the students we have here, I’d have agreed with you. But, they’re not. They need the challenge and the stability having a real wingpartner will bring them. Left on their own, they’re all over the place ... one way or another. And who knows, at the end of the tunnel there might be a DragonCorps SAR to be proud of!’

‘More likely that the end of the tunnel will be on fire,’ Tiosh huffed.

It wasn’t that he didn’t see their potential. He did. He just didn’t want it to blow up in everyone’s faces. Especially his own. He liked his face. So did his wife. He felt that letting it melt would be letting her down.

‘Besides,’ a sly grin spread over Tam’s face. ‘Debra already volunteered you.’

‘WHAT?’ Tiosh exclaimed. ‘Betrayed! By my own mate! What is the world coming to?’ Tiosh threw his hands up in a mock surrender.

‘Stop being melodramatic, Wraithy,’ Tam said. ‘Come help me finish planning the itinerary instead.’

2   STELLAR PERFORMANCE

SPACESHIPS WERE NO place for a dragon, Sera thought. In all but the largest, there just wasn’t enough extra space to spare[‡] and so most ended up travelling in their human forms.

This did have the added benefit that you could fit a lot more human shaped bodies into a spaceship than you could dragon shapes, so they weren’t nearly as crowded. That was the theory anyway.

In reality, it just meant they didn’t build them as large. Or they did, and it just meant there was more legroom for those intrepid interstellar travellers.

There was little point in sending a passenger vessel capable of ferrying the population of a small moon on a run where maybe but a handful of people actually boarded. Mostly, though, the ships tended to be assigned based on age and speed since, once you’d moved beyond a certain size, size no longer mattered ... much.  

Some did have draconic certified gyms, though. Maybe even a weightless chamber, wind tunnels and other chances for the dragons to play with their wings fully functional. Especially on-board those ships scheduled on longer runs. Dragons didn’t do well when cooped up for too long.

Things had been known to ... break.

That is, most didn’t do well. Some didn’t have a problem with it at all. And there were spacesuits designed for dragons (the only real difference between those and an extended, armoured, saddle was that it carried oxygen tanks) but unless you worked on an exploratory vessel, you were unlikely to ever even see one.

Today, they very much weren’t.

The SS Agamemnon, waiting somewhere up in orbit to take him and the rest of his team on a journey between the stars, was a spaceliner. Admittedly, while a bit on the older side, she was supposed to sport several facilities to make the journey more comfortable for those of draconic persuasion. Yet Sera couldn’t shake the suspicion that he’d end up being disappointed.

Strands of his long silvery hair whipped around in the wind as the shuttles that’d ferry them up to the ship touched down on the landing pad next to them. He wished he’d remembered to put the coat on top of the errant hair.

Next to him, one of his team mates, Jim Walker, the tiny energetic ball of blond fluff that he was, was balancing on the durasteel fence surrounding the landing pad itself.

‘Think that one’s ours?’ Jim asked, pointing at a shuttle with a tail decked out in an elaborate brown and black lattice.  

They were the only ones out here. The rest of the team (not to mention the other passengers) had, perhaps wisely, decided to wait inside the terminal.

‘I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough,’ Sera said.

Not much later did a stream of people flow out of the terminal building and into the shuttle. Judging by the amount of laughter and joking around, both of them figured they must all know each other.

‘Private party?’ Jim asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Sera shrugged.

By the time their designated transport did arrive, they’d both grown hot and sweaty under the blistering New Retmia sun before boarding.  

‘Well, don’t say we didn’t warn you,’ the person in the seat behind him said, then returned to pressing her nose against the viewport as they all settled in. Like the rest of them, Gaile hoped to catch a glimpse of the waiting ship.

New Retmia, being a frontier planet, was hardly a regular stop for any liner’s itinerary. In fact, the Agamemnon was the only regularly scheduled direct flight back to the core system of the Empire.

At least if you were a passenger. But, somehow, travelling as cargo wasn’t particularly appealing. And neither of them had a personal vehicle that could make the journey. Or, if someone did, they weren’t telling.

Of course, they all knew what the Agamemnon looked like. It wasn’t as if videos, holos, images and even a virtual tour, didn’t exist. Dayu had even pulled up the schematics and had, subsequently, been sharing details with his teammates, much to their annoyance.

They’d thank him later, he figured. When they got lost. Again.

The fact that they might not never even entered his mind. He knew his friends. They had a habit of sticking noses, and fingers, (not to mention snouts and claws) into places that there was a good reason for the sign saying authorized access only that they’d just sauntered by.

With said ship still nowhere in sight, the shuttle’s passengers were, however, treated to the sight of a group of dragons who, upon seeing the shuttle, swerved towards them. For a moment, they kept pace as the shuttle and dragons both rose through the sky.

Gaile could have sworn it looked as if they were laughing as, one by one, they fell back, the ship approaching heights even dragons couldn’t reach. Some tucked in their wings, dropping from sight in a split second. Others she could still see, their vast wingspan riding the winds below, until she lost them to the angle.

But there wasn’t a holo in the world, any world, that could prepare you for the sight of a ship, in orbit, around a planet. No matter how engaging the screen or how small the viewport. It was there now, in their minds. Hanging there, suspended in space. Appearing not to move yet hurtling through nothing at speeds no dragon could hope to match.

That was the idea anyway. They didn’t end up seeing it at all. Sitting on the wrong side of the shuttle, all they were treated to was New Retmia, a blue glow around her, like the halo around a pearl. A pearl of green and blue and ochre jewel (sand and rocks were popular building blocks by the planet, if not her inhabitants), her sun momentarily blinding them as the shuttle swung around.

Gaile grimaced, and turned away from the viewport. She’d come in on the same ship, over a year ago now, to join the local Dragon Research Centre, or DRC for short, and become a dragonrider.

That plan hadn’t quite worked out as, well, planned. She twirled a strand of chestnut brown in her fingers, absentmindedly beginning to chew on the ends. Her wingpartner pulled the hair away from her mouth without her realizing it, she was so lost in thought.

No, she’d joined alright. Joining hadn’t been the hard part. The New Retmia DRC accepted anyone. The entrance exam literally consisted of you showing up on time (and some people still failed). It hadn’t taken long before she’d realized that she wasn’t really cut out for the position. But if Gaile was anything, it was stubborn, so, despite everything the past year and a bit had decided to throw at her, she’d persevered.

Okay, so technically she’d decided to give up and leave and been persuaded to stay. But the less said about that the better, she thought. She was still getting used to the idea that anyone actually wanted her around in the first place.

Even so, she’d entered her second year as a student and, from the outside, together with the friends she’d made along the way, they certainly looked like a perfectly normal bunch.

Well, normal for trainee dragonriders anyway.

Gaile glanced back over the rest of the team. Yes, onlookers might find them no different than anyone else. When viewed from inside ... okay, maybe not so normal.

For starters, second years shouldn’t have gained wingpartners. Heck, they shouldn’t even know who those amongst the students were dragons. That shouldn’t happen until graduation. Several years from now.  

But it had. And, one thing leading to another, now they were all stuck with each other.

It still felt ... strange. It’d take a lot more time to get used to not being alone all the time.

‘I really don’t like it!’ Akia, sitting behind her, said, loud enough to break her reverie.  

‘Why not? You fly, don’t you?’ Drak looked at her as if she’d grown a second head.

‘That’s different.’

‘How?’

Akia threw the speaker a loaded glare. It was a good thing they were strapped in or it might not have been the only thing she’d have thrown.

Not that Drak was likely to notice. Anything short of an all-out powermove was likely to just bounce off. Physically, anyway.

‘Aww, man, don’t be such a douche-bag, Drak,’ Jim said from up ahead.

‘Sorry,’ Drak said gruffly. ‘Space travel makes me nauseous.’

‘I can’t imagine why,’ Tiosh, the second of their teachers, said dryly. ‘We’re only so many human sardines waiting to be transferred from a small tin can to a bigger one, surrounded by deadly vacuum. What could possibly go wrong?’

Tam’s eyes widened. ‘You had to go say that, didn’t you?’ He punched his wingpartner lightly in the shoulder.

Drak looked even more uncomfortable than before, always a rare sight for his teammates. Usually his expressions had two settings; Gruff and Angry.

That didn’t mean he was either. He just looked like he was. It had always worked in his previous life. Had kept people at a distance. Kept them in line. But dragons were notoriously hard to impress. They were also bigger than he was. A lot bigger.  

The memories caused his thick brows to furrow.

‘Come on, Tiosh. Now look what you did,’ Tam said.

‘I’d hardly refer to a spaceliner as a sardine can,’ Sera said from up ahead. He’d pulled out an old-fashioned leather tome as they’d boarded and hadn’t really participated in the excited discussions about where they were going and what they were doing, aside from an occasional nod. Which could just have been agreeing with what he was reading.

He tucked some of his hair behind an ear, his eyes focused on the text in front of him. He’d long since perfected the art of walking and reading at the same time. Sitting down and reading was easy.

‘Okay, okay,’ Tiosh threw his hands up in defeat. ‘So, it’s a very comfortable sardine can. Do you think the sardines are happier for that?’

‘I don’t know. They could be. What’s a sardine?’ someone down the back asked.

‘Maybe if you two could possibly stop reminding us every five minutes of everything that could possibly go wrong,’ Akia muttered and patted her mohawk, making sure it was still there. ‘Just because you and Tam have the most experience with space...’

‘You’re supposed to be the senior officers in charge here,’ Dayu reminded them.

‘How’s that working out for you?’ Jim, having slipped out of his harness and now sitting backwards on his seat, asked, grinning.

‘Why couldn’t we get a normal assignment, Wraithy?’ Tam complained loudly. ‘Hopeless, the lot of you.’

‘I believe we prefer incorrigible,’ Sera said, turning a page without looking up.

Tiosh’s face truly screamed this was your idea, remember for a second, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, a small, just ever so slightly devilish smile, hovered around his mouth and eyes.

He’d long since lost count of how many times Tam’s own antics had gotten the two of them into trouble. There was something immensely satisfying about him trying to navigate the serious teacher role without slipping up.

Which he would, Tiosh was sure of it. The mask wasn’t strapped on all that tightly, after all.

After some initial confusion, Tam and Tiosh managed to keep anyone from wandering off as they all set their first steps on the spaceliner, guiding them along until they found where they’d be staying.

It didn’t take anyone long to throw their belongings into their assigned quarters and go find somewhere more comfortable.

It wasn’t that the rooms were tiny, but they still felt cramped.

‘I wonder if they felt like this on the Orion,’ Akia said, scrunching up her nose as she tried to manoeuvre between the bolted down furniture without falling over anything.

‘It was a big ship,’ Dayu, who was waiting by the door, his foot tapping, said.

‘Not after being stuck on it for several generations, it wasn’t,’ Akia snorted. She gave one of the curved couches a small kick.

The durasteel bolt clanged against her steel-capped boots.

‘Let’s go find the others,’ she said. ‘They’ve got to be around here somewhere.’

A few quick messages began flying back and forth and off they went to find the rest of their friends, who had, along with a fair number of other passengers obviously similarly impressed with their sleeping arrangements, drifted towards the ship’s main lounge.

It provided a relaxing space as well as several forms of entertainment and places to eat.

It wasn’t long before the whole group was deep in whatever had taken their fancy.

Well, most of their group.

‘Picking up from earlier, and speaking of incorrigible,’ Tam said, looking over at Sera. ‘Where’s that wingpartner of yours disappeared off to?’

Sera shrugged. ‘I’m not her keeper,’ he said. ‘I’m sure she’s on the ship ... somewhere.’

As he added that last bit, it was as if watching someone who’d just realized what they’d said.

‘Hmm.’ Tam frowned. ‘We are talking about the person who managed to get entrapped in the DRC’s underbelly, spent months sneaking around in said DRC after hours and actually managed to become a dragonrider despite being completely and utterly terrified of heights? Yes?’

‘When you put it like that, it makes it sound as if it’s a bad thing,’ Sera said. ‘May I remind you that, to my knowledge, she didn’t do any of those things on purpose? Maybe with exception for,’ he coughed delicately, ‘the sneaking.’

‘Perhaps not, Sera. But you can’t deny your wingpartner attracts more than her share of troubles.’

‘One of her best qualities, I always thought,’ Sera said, a barely suppressed amused twitch around his lips.

‘We don’t mind,’ Drak said from over where he and several of the others were pouring over the menu’s lunch selection from the nearest eatery.

This earned a round of agreeing, and slightly distracted, mumbles.

‘Gaile’s maybe not the most exciting person, but with her around, things don’t usually stay unexciting for very long,’ Akia said. ‘Does this taste good?’ she pointed at an item on the menu.

Her wingpartner shrugged. ‘Depends,’ Dayu said, running his fingers through his thick blue-black hair.

‘On what?’

‘If you like having your mouth set on fire.’

‘Ah... maybe something else then,’ Akia backtracked. ‘Dangit. It sounded tasty.’

Meanwhile, Sera’s fingers drummed against the arm of the lounge chair he was reclining in. While he didn’t want to admit it out loud, not even to the rest of the team — they hadn’t worked together that long — Gaile was a trouble magnet.

She didn’t mean to be. He knew that. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop the universe from having decided otherwise.

‘This book is boring. I’ll fetch another. I’ll be back shortly,’ he said. Sera stood up, towering over the rest of them, and disappeared in the