Sampson Ventura
He wasn’t paying attention to the class. Okay, maybe he was with half a mind. With most of his mind, he watched, felt, heard, and generally discerned everything he could about Diana Fenton. Which wasn’t a particularly hard task considering how close they were.
As he flipped her on her back for the fifth time and Diana offered little to no resistance, her dark, glossy hair flopping around those vibrant violet eyes, he realized she wasn’t paying a scrap of attention to him. She’d switched off. Again. She seemed good at that. And he couldn’t blame her.
Diana Fenton was a pariah. He could vaguely understand the other students going after her. Sparx was another matter. The other cadets might not know who Luther Fenton was – Sparx would unless he’d buried his head under a rock for the past five years.
Though a part of Sampson wanted to just let Diana cruise through this lesson, another part reminded him she had to learn this. “You should at least try to roll,” he muttered. “It’ll absorb some of the force of the fall.” He reached his hand out to her. Again.
She pressed her slight fingers into his and allowed him to do all the work as he pulled her to her feet.
There was no denying that she was petite. But there was no denying that that was not a reason to shirk combat. Some of the most lethal soldiers Sampson knew were the smallest. Size tended to lead to overconfidence. The best operators knew that they had to win every fight from scratch.
Diana took a few seconds to even comprehend the fact that he’d spoken to her. She brushed her fingers through her glossy hair as one of her canines scrunched down her bottom lip. “I did,” she lied.
He couldn’t help but snort. “Yeah, certainly saw you trying to roll there as you stared dead-eyed at the ceiling.”
His comment got to her, and she immediately shrugged her shoulders in and lowered her gaze to the ground. He recognized it for what it was – classic defensiveness. Over the years of being treated like the odd one out, Diana Fenton had obviously internalized that the only way to stop people from bullying her was to show that she was smaller and not worth the effort.
He reached a hand out to her. It took him a few seconds to even realize why – his body had done it of its own accord. And for a psy soldier as trained as him, his body rarely acted on instinct.
She looked at his hand, those large violet eyes opening wider. They were like two doors. And yet, despite how wide they looked as her dark, long lashes rimmed them, something told him that if they were two doors, she always kept them closed. Diana Fenton didn’t strike him as the kind of person who ever let anyone close. “Ah… why are you offering me a hand?”
“Because you’re going to get me on my back now,” Sampson decided.
She didn’t react. Sampson knew he was attractive. He didn’t even need to tune in to the feelings of some of the cadets around him to conclude that. He could see it in their gazes. He’d received more than a few appreciative glances. Something told him that if he’d just offered that to Susan, she would’ve shot him one hell of a smile.
Diana just looked back as if it couldn’t be done. Her cheeks didn’t even redden. She shook her head, her shoulder-length silky hair sliding around her cheeks, a few long strands slipping from her bun. “You’re too tall and too heavy. I simply don’t have the capacity.”
He chuckled. His hand was still held out to her. “It’s not about capacity. It’s about opportunity. Even the smallest person can flip the tallest if they get them on the wrong foot. You get a Mascar warrior barreling toward you, and even an unarmed soldier can take them down if—” he began.
He stopped.
At the mention of a Mascar – one of the primary Barbarian races – Diana Fenton shut down. It was like a wall slammed down in between her and him. Her cheeks stiffened, her lips locked into a line, and she turned her gaze to the side.
That was no normal reaction. The Barbarians and their constituent races might be legendary among the Academy, but for Diana to shut down like this, it meant she’d dealt with them firsthand.
… How? He doubted Luther Fenton had taken his daughter along on a mission to Barbarian space.
Before he could finish that thought, Diana shook her head. “There’s nothing anyone can do against a Mascar. You just die.”
“What did you just say, Cadet?” Sparx spat. He had to have hearing implants, because the commander seemed to be able to pick up what Diana was saying from halfway across the room, despite the noise.
He shifted over once more, and once more, Diana was forced to drop her gaze to the ground.
Diana sighed. Sampson thought she’d drop this conversation like she had her gaze, but he was quickly learning that while Diana technically knew how to physically react around bullies, she didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. “I said that there’s nothing you can do against a Mascar if you’re not in armor. You just die.”
“How would you know this? You met one?” Sparx snapped.
Diana didn’t drop her gaze. Slowly, she shook her head.
… And it was a lie. Sampson didn’t need to turn his psychic skills on to fully appreciate that. It was written all over her face. However it had happened, Diana Fenton clearly had first-hand experience with the Barbarians. Sampson didn’t need statistics to tell him that experience would’ve been traumatic. Common sense was enough.
But what Sampson could read, Sparx was clearly too blunt to discern, as he continued, “You can’t make assumptions about the galaxy, Cadet. Neither can you make assumptions about what you can and cannot take on. Theory will never make up for direct experience.”
She blinked her arresting eyes once then kept them wide open as she looked directly at Sparx. “Then you prove my original point. Training will never prepare you for the real world.”
Though Sparx had legitimately just walked into that, by pointing it out, Diana had dug her own grave. And she’d done it publicly. Sparx, even if he hadn’t hated Diana, would be forced to reprimand her anyway.
“Out,” he said, jamming his thumb toward the door. “You will report to disciplining at 17:00 hrs.”
“I have an appointment,” she said quietly.
“I don’t goddamn care.”
“It’s with Counselor Bequelia.”
Sparx ground to a stop. He cleared his throat gruffly. “Then you will report to disciplining at 17:00 tomorrow. That’s it. Now get out of my class.”
Diana made eye contact with no one – not even Sampson – as she walked away.
As for Sampson – he couldn’t tear his gaze off her. That had been unfair on every level. Yeah, so Diana clearly had a habit of putting her foot in her mouth, but only when pushed. And her classmates and teachers seemed all too eager to push her.
Before Sampson could conclude that every kid around him was nothing more than a glorified bully – Sparx included – he had to remind himself they weren’t psychic. To them, Diana didn’t know what she was speaking about. To Sampson, she clearly had a violent history with the Barbarians, and Sparx had no right to rub her nose in it. To make matters worse, Sparx publicly forced her to admit that she was seeing a counselor. He’d rescheduled her disciplinary action to another day, which meant Diana wasn’t casually seeing a counselor – she was being forced to.
It took Sampson too long to drop this injustice and get back to his actual mission. It was still in the background of his mind as he was paired up with another cadet. Because it painted a picture of an Academy that had forgotten its roots. In the rush of competitiveness to be the best and brightest, they’d forgotten what set the Coalition apart. The Galactic Coalition did not rule through the power of force – it ruled through the power of understanding.
And when you forget your roots, it’s easy enough to let weeds grow.
With that thought in mind, he scanned his classmates, one by one. He’d find the terrorists before it was too late. And he would deal out the justice they deserved. For while he’d just preached about understanding, it went beyond accepting weakness. Correct understanding was about the accurate and truthful representation of one’s limitations. True understanding reinforced what you could and couldn’t do, but most importantly, it taught you what to protect and what costs you had to go to to keep it safe.
Sampson Ventura would protect the Academy, the Coalition, and the goddamn Milky Way from Infection Zero. And that was a promise.