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Ren flipped through the notes on her clipboard one handed, the thumb of her free hand looping through her uniform belt and resting on her hip. “Looks like we’re doing a run of search and rescue simulations today. Group up in your units and we can get started right away.”
There was a general murmur of acknowledgement, speckled with a few scattered groans, as the cadets filed into the simulation room. She caught the look of unenthusiastic resignation on Pidge’s face and she swore that it was possible to feel the anxiety radiating from Garrett as they passed. The lanky third member of their unit grinned broadly and winked as he stepped into the room, even going so far as to shoot off finger guns as if it was the way to any woman’s heart.
“Move along, McClain!” Iverson snapped and the pilot-in-training scrambled into the room, completely destroying any suave persona he had been cultivating. The Commander grunted, already sounding tired. “Ridiculous.”
The mechanic bit the inside of her lip to keep from smirking. “Pilots always have the most personality, sir.”
She moved to step inside the simulation room only to be stopped by the heavy weight of a hand on her shoulder. “A word, Ripley,” Iverson’s gravelly voice sounded as the door in front of them slid closed.
Ren was almost certain she had heard the last cadet shout in surprise but her attention was no longer on what was happening behind the door. “Sir?”
The commander’s natural stern expression remained but there was unspoken concern softening the edges of his single visible eye. “You should be aware, it’s the Kerberos simulation again.”
Her mouth went dry.
“Final checks are complete,” She announced as the door to the waiting room slid open. Her hands were occupied with cleaning oil and lubricant from her hands with a rag. It did nothing for the smudge across her cheek. “You’ll need to gear up before too long so boarding procedures can start.”
“We know how it works, Ren,” the Science Officer responded, with a childish sort of glee in his voice. It earned him the rag to his face. Matt squawked, sounding like a pigeon with a head-cold, and nearly fell out of the chair he was sitting in.
“Children,” Commander Holt scolded, face stern for all of a minute before he broke out into fond laughter. “Is this really how you want to behave before we leave?”
“I’d be more worried if they weren’t,” the pilot chuckled, standing up from his own seat. Shiro stepped over to the Tech Sergeant, reaching up to attempt to remove the smudge from her cheek with a thumb. “You could at least act like you’ll miss us.”
“And ruin my image?” Ren grinned, all teeth and teasing humor. “I still have to live here, you know. No one’ll take me seriously if they know I’ve gone all soft.” She leaned up on the balls of her feet, pressing a quick kiss to the pilot’s lips before he could give a rebuttal.
“Gross,” Matt said, so casually it was more out of obligation than sincerity.
The mechanic leaned around the pilot to stick her tongue out at their friend before turning her attention back to Shiro. “You got to say goodbye to Keith, right?”
“Of course,” he answered, wondering if he should be offended and mirroring her earlier who-do-you-think-I-am tone. “We were going to bring you breakfast but you were already on site, yelling at Jenkins.”
“Ugh, Jenkins,” Matt groaned, stealing the words before Ren could even open her mouth. “One of these days I’ll figure out why you hate him so much.”
Shiro turned, wide eyed, to face Matt. “You mean you don’t know either?”
If she had known then that this was the final time she would see these people…
If she had known then...
The hand on her shoulder tightened, shattering the memory. “Ripley.”
Ren sighed, slowly exhaling until she was once again aware of her feet on the ground and Iverson staring down at her. “It’s fine,” she answered and her voice was steady enough to be believed.
Iverson didn’t look convinced as he took his hand from her shoulder and crossed his arms across his chest. “Is that so?”
“Yes, sir.”
The man straightened to his full height, looking down at the younger woman with his good eye. “Because from what I hear you haven’t been keeping your appointments, Tech Sergeant.”
It was the brunette’s turn to straighten, though she couldn’t match the commander’s height. “Well I was told, sir, that these appointments were now left up to my discretion.”
“That doesn’t mean you can just stop attending.” His single eye narrowed as if Ren wasn’t used to his intimidation at this point. “We just got you in working order, Tech Sergeant. I’d prefer to keep you that way.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Ren argued, stopping the commander just as he moved past her to the door. “You’ve never removed Adam from Kerberos simulations. I don’t see why I need to be.”
“Pilot Warner has already passed his psych evaluation with the grief counselor. And he was smart enough not to walk out into traffic and complicate things.”
“That is not--” Ren cut herself off, taking a deep breath to stifle the rise of her temper. “I can handle the basic simulation, sir. It’s just ice and coordinates.”
Iverson was silent for a long moment before he continued to the door of the simulation room. “We’re wasting time. The cadets have been unsupervised for long enough.”
It wasn’t a dismissal. The tension dropped from the mechanic’s shoulders, leaving her feeling more relieved than she cared to admit. “It has been awfully quiet.”
As if to prove the commander’s point, the door slid open to several cadets gathered around the doorway in an attempt to hear the earlier conversation. Most managed to scramble back, out of the commander’s line of sight and back to relative safety, but one lost his balance and fell face first at Iverson’s feet.
“Congratulations, McClain,” Iverson smiled, the unsettling kind he always used on cadets. “Not only have you just volunteered for your unit to go first but you’ve also volunteered for cleanup duty!”
Ren frowned, arms folded behind her back, as the rescue operation simulation played out before her. The pilot kept antagonizing his mechanical engineer, despite frequent warnings and the impending threat of a mess. Even without the conversations inside the simulator being broadcast for the rest of the class, the craft’s unnecessarily jerky movements made it obvious. From the corner of her eye Ren could see Commander Iverson’s face contorting. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from sighing.
The sound of vomit could be heard even outside the simulation unit. Ren winced as Iverson turned a side-eyed glance in her direction. “Didn’t you tell me once that Garrett was one of your best students?”
The Tech Sergeant fought the urge to put her face in her hands as the simulated flight gave a spectacular crash on the viewing screen. “I did...say that…”
The simulation lasted roughly five minutes. Casualties included the main gear box, now in desperate need of cleaning and likely to never recover completely. There was a growing bruise on the Comm-Tech’s forehead, the mechanical engineer was still shaky from losing his lunch, and the pilot only looked mildly ashamed as he stepped from the simulator. Subtly Ren shifted on her feet, closing her eyes as the Commander stepped forward and the yelling began.
“Congratulations, cadets. You’re all dead!” The Commander turned, addressing the rest of the class. “Now, who wants to list of the many, many mistakes made just now?”
The class was quick to point out what had gone wrong in the simulation, listing several of the things Ren herself had observed: The sickness, while unavoidable, did little to repair the issue and would have made things worse in the field; The Comm-Tech taking a swan dive from the chair as if at the local pool; and the inevitable crashing of the craft.
Commander Iverson was quick to pounce on any perceived weakness. It was his favorite teaching method. “And as if that wasn’t bad enough the whole time they were arguing with each other! It’s just these sorts of mistakes that cost the men on the Kerberos mission their lives.”
Ren jolted, eyes snapping open. Pidge was shouting, but by the time her eyes focused Lance had mostly diffused the situation with that easy grin of his and some sort of muffling submission hold.
“Tech Sergeant Ripley.”
Ren stepped forward, meeting the one-eyed gaze of the Commander. She could feel her nails digging into the flesh of her palms. “Sir?”
“You've made your share of poor decisions.” Iverson assessed. From over the Commander’s shoulder Ren could see Pidge bristle in Lance’s hold.
“That is correct, sir.” The mechanic nodded, the motion a slight dip of her jaw. Her expression remained neutral. “I most certainly have.”
“What's your assessment of these cadets?”
Ren stepped past the Commander, straightening as she looked down at the three teenagers. Slowly Lance released his smaller classmate as the whole failed simulation team moved to stand at attention.
“Even the best team will argue amongst themselves, sir.” The Tech Sergeant paused and the cadets relaxed. “However there's a fine line between constructive disagreement and dangerous instigation, and that line was crossed ten times over.”
“The Tech Sergeant is too kind, considering the mistakes made in that simulation.” The Commander leaned down, nearly nose to nose with the training pilot. “You, especially. It would do you good to remember the only- and I repeat only- reason you’re here and not learning to organize cargo is because the best pilot in your year washed out. Care to follow him?”
“They have potential,” Ren interrupted, frowning. “Even with this failure, they have it. If they can stop sabotaging or tripping over each other long enough to unlock it is up to them. But to discredit them completely is-”
Commander Iverson glanced over his shoulder, scowl deepening as he straightened. “We’ll see about that, Tech Sergeant. Next unit!”
The day continued without another incident but Ren still sank onto one of the Instructor’s Lounge couches with a groan.
“Bad day?”
Ren dropped her head against the back of the couch to find Adam looking down at her. The pilot moved to sit beside her and Ren shuffled into something more like a proper sitting position.
“It’s been a day,” the mechanic answered with a frown. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms above her head before elaborating. “Garrett lost his lunch in the gearbox of the simulator.”
Adam made a face, scrunching his nose. “Isn’t that the kid you like so much?”
Ren groaned and dragged her hands down her face in exasperation. “He’s so smart! He has so much potential. But he worries himself sick and ends up failing. Or at least embarrassing himself and I know it bothers him.”
Adam hummed a neutral sort of sound to show he was listening, pausing to take a sip from the disposable cup in his hand.
“How’s the coffee today?” Ren asked, eyeing the cup in his hand. She could smell the tantalizing scent of fresh coffee but Garrison brew was always a gamble. A losing one unless she or Adam made it to the coffee pot first.
Adam grimaced as he swallowed and passed the cup off to her. “Same as always.”
“Hah, no,” she laughed, handing the cup back to the pilot. There was a bit of back and forth with the cup of lies until, ultimately, Adam had the cup once again. “I don’t hate myself that much today, even if I do have to drive home.”
“Oh, so you are making progress,” her fellow instructor turned around on the couch to reach the nearest trash can and remove the offending liquid from their presence. “It’s about time.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“You fake laugh,” Adam said, turning back around the right way. “But earlier this year we all saw you drinking this sludge with a straight face. Two cups even.”
“Sometimes you must suffer for the caffeine,” Ren offered sagely. In response the pilot scoffed and rolled his eyes. She elbowed him in the ribs for retaliation; Adam winced, annoyed, and a small scuffle ensued. One of the other instructors muttered something about acting your age and they broke apart, laughing.
“You’ve finally done it,” Adam paused to fix his glasses. “You’ve dragged me down to your level.”
Ren scoffed, sounding offended. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You broke curfew more than once with us back in the day. Once it was even your idea.”
The pilot said nothing for a long moment, leaning back against the couch and folding his hands across his lap. “It’s good to hear you laugh again.”
Ren leaned against the arm of the couch, propping her chin against the palm of her hand. “Do you ever get tired of having to deal with me?”
“Frequently,” Adam answered easily, “But we’re stuck with each other now.” He reached out with an arm, dragging the mechanic closer by the shoulders and resting his cheek on top of her head.
Ren snorted, “God knows no one else will put up with us at this point.”
Adam hummed in casual resignation. “It’s a real detriment to my dating life.”
Ren perked up, trying and failing to look up at him from her new position. “Are you dating again?”
“Only if you promise not to steal this one.”
Ren cackled, unable to even act offended at the accusation. “But, Adam! My evil plans!”
The two lapsed into a comfortable silence for a long moment before Ren sighed, glancing up at the pilot. “You know I love you, right?”
“Still not into women.” Adam said, leaning to the side and dropping his full weight against her, arms crossed and somehow still holding onto that flimsy paper coffee cup. “And if I was, I doubt you’d be my type.”
“Alright, listen you,” she jabbed his chin with a finger for emphasis. “First of all, I’m everyone’s type. I’m a catch. Secondly, that’s not what I meant, and you know it. I just-- I know I’ve put you and Lee through a lot lately and--”
“I know,” Adam laughed softly and leaned down to kiss her temple; Ren could feel his smile against her skin. “And I love you too. Despite my better judgement.”
“Alright, that’s enough emotion for one night,” the mechanic stood, her sudden movement all but dumping the pilot on the couch. She leaned backwards, stretching her stiff muscles as her back gave several mildly concerning pops.
Before she left the staff room Ren turned to face her friend. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
This time Adam laughed openly, “I don’t want to hear that from you!”
In the instant before the door closed behind her Ren stuck out her tongue.
Lights out had already been called by the time Ren left the staff room so the hallways were dark, save for the security lighting near the floor. She was reminded a bit of those times she and Matt, and later Adam and Shiro, had snuck out after hours.
In that moment Ren felt extraordinarily lonely.
Then two trash cans at the far end of the hallway erupted into human shapes that then scampered around the corner and out of sight.
“Excuse me?” Ren demanded of the newly empty hallway, wondering when her life had made a sharp turn into Loony Toons. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Did they think they were being subtle? Cadets these days.
The tech sergeant sighed again, lifting her hand to run her fingers through her short hair. She recognized those silhouettes. “Just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
Well, she was a bit fond of that attitude, if she were honest with herself, but unfortunately for Garrett and McClain that was also the direction the tech sergeant was headed.
Might as well see if anything interesting was afoot before she left for home.