Great, I thought. Three solid hours of my evening, gone. Tomorrow's written test was on recombinant multi-discipline power supplies—converting environmental essence into usable energy—which I was still shaky on. The reverse was easier; any adept could shift personal essence into sorcerous fuel. I'd be up late into the night studying once this punitive detail was done.

  And I had a REAL Kobayashi to look forward to. It was a pure simulation exercise where you scrambled to reassemble as much as you could from a derelict ship to fight waves of spawn of increasing difficulty. Most people hated it.

  I loved it. It was one of the few things I could actually take pride in excelling at without holding much back. Last time, I'd started with a single disabled light carrier and a recorded distress call and wound up taking apart two planet destroyers before a titan spawned on top of me and ended the run. This time, I was sure I could do better. I'd have to, to beat the titan.

  I did grumble quietly about it, though, for the benefit of anyone listening. It wouldn't do to have someone revel in a punishment detail. I was already trying to deal with the 'surprise' of finding out my secret wasn't a secret to base command, or soon after, the other droners.

  Learine grinned at me as we powered down our stations. "You know, I would be more than happy to stay and help you recover this stuff. And then afterwards, we could get dinner and maybe see the sights of the base." His aura was… pleasant. Like taking a cool shower after getting overheated. Not exciting, not appealing, just… nice.

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  I snorted, falling back into the rough greenskin patter I'd adopted. "Yeah, the great and powerful Learine caught dead escorting a female goblin too young to grow proper… assets… around the base. You'd never live it down."

  He chortled. "It would just add to the rep. Besides, you have gotten a LOT more… adult-looking in the last month. My rep would probably be: 'Wow, he got to her before she was a superhero sex symbol! He's so amazing... I want to have his babies!'"

  I shook my head. "No, your rep would be: 'I wonder if he's going to be coming for my under-aged daughters next!'" I chuckled. "I'm mentally mature, but to my people? You're a lot less sexy than a peanut butter and jelly snack cracker."

  He sighed, a little theatrically, but he could take no for an answer. Unlike a certain orc I had the misfortune of knowing in the 132nd.

  Six more weeks, I thought. Just six more weeks, and I'll graduate, get my ship assignment. It was only the first step towards my real goal: protecting my world from the slavers. But it was a vital step. I just had to hope that whatever captain I was assigned to would be forgiving about the 'filing error' that sent a female drone pilot to their ship.

  If I was very, very lucky, someday I might find a bond willing to take on my personal mission as well, someone who hated the slaver worlds and their 'bounty hunters' as much as I did. And if not… my spiritualism was already at apprentice rank. With enough work and training, by the time I was unmistakably mature, I could learn to resist bonding altogether and achieve my goals alone.

  The fantasy was comforting, a small light in the darkness. It lasted right up until I got a direct message on my datapad from Chief Braxton. I was to report to the School Commandant's office immediately.

  The light sputtered and died.