But the Captain just smirks at me and turns his attention back to the group of us, beginning his lecture.


    “Espionage Track splits its chosen cadets further into specialties so that we can have a


    variety of agents trained for our nation’s particr needs. All of you will be trained by Dr. Neumann so


    that you can each handle the chemical tools that you’ll need to perform your jobs on the battlefield,


    wherever that may be. Some of the cadets in your track are spending their alternate days taking


    lessons with Ambassador–track students, so that we can have agents trained to go into political


    situations.”


    I dart my eyes towards the two young men standing next to me, wondering if they, too, are relieved to


    be spared those sses. I had enough political training as a Princess – I have no real urge to further


    study how to handle myself in government negotiations.


    This belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    No, I want to get to the good stuff.


    “Other cadets,” the Captain continues, his voice snapping my eyes back to him, “within Espionage


    track, are being trained in disciplines which are ssified. Your discipline is likewise ssified, so I


    would urge you to be close–lipped with your peers regarding what it is, precisely, that you learn in this


    ss.”


    My eyes go a little wide with excitement, because a ssified discipline? This, I think, is where it starts


    to get good.


    “I chose the three of you,” the Captain says, folding his arms, “because of your high marksmanship


    rankingsbined with your excellent scores on the intelligence examination. And I get first pick of


    cadets, so you should see your position here as…elite.”


    A little thrill of joy runs through me, because even if I was nieth through the door into the Academy?


    Clearly, the Captain wanted me here.


    “Come,” he says, turning sharply and marching towards the back of the room. The other two cadets


    and I follow immediately. I take a moment to nce up at them, noting the excitement on their faces as


    well. One of them, I’m surprised to see, is a blonde that I noticed on the first day of candidacy – tall and


    quiet with a jawline as sharp as a knife. The other is a dark–haired young man only a little taller than


    me, his face serious, perhaps a little taciturn.


    Though I’ve got no real reason to, I like them both immediately.


    But before I can consider them further, the Captain presses a button on the back wall. A metal partition


    begins to raise, tucking itself neatly against the ceiling above us like a garage door. And beyond it


    I gasp a little, unable to help it, at the incredible expanse of weapons that sit beyond it.


    “You three,” the Captain says, a distinct hint of pleasure in his voice, “are going to be trained as


    marksmen. Snipers, specifically, if we can get you there. But experts in long–rage projectiles of a


    variety of sses. You will each find your specialty as the course progresses.”


    I’m practically vibrating with excitement as I survey the collection of rifles, bows, crossbows, and even


    shoulder–mounted missileunchers that range before me, each of them top of the line and state–of–


    the–art. I mean, I’m not a gun nut or anything, but even I have to admit that this is insanely cool.


    “May I ask a question?” the blonde next to me asks, drawing my eyes to him now.


    “You’re encouraged to, Cadet Baumann” the Captain says, nodding to him. “We can be more casual


    here than we are elsewhere – I expect a distinct camaraderie to build within this group, presuming that


    you can indeed make it through the Examination.”


    The blonde nods. “Is this…everything? All the weaponry at our disposal?” I smirk, because he sounds


    a little disappointed.


    The Captainughs a little, clearly feeling as I do. “It is not,” he says, shaking his head. “There is a


    great deal more – this is simply what has been made avable as preliminary weaponry for the course.


    Is there something in particr that you’d like to see?”


    “At home,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, “I trained a little in drone strike technology. I would


    be…interested to continue those studies.”


    “We’ll see what we can do,” the Captain replies, his eyebrows raised, “provided you prove adequate


    with this,” he nods now towards the weapons behind him.


    weapons and


    The cadet nods and the Captain moves on, going through each of the exining what it is, how it’s


    going to be used. And then he hands each of us a bow, exining that we’ll be moving from oldest to


    newest technologies, hoping to master each


    over the course of the next few months and, in doing so, revealing where our particr aptitudesy.


    I’m grinning with excitement by the time that the Captain hands me my bow, offering a quiver of arrows


    that I sling over my shoulder.


    “Do any of you have experience with archery?” The Captain asks.


    “I do!” I quip, cheerful, but I grimace a little when I realize that I’m the only one who spoke. The other


    two re at me a little, perhaps resenting my leg–up. The marksmanship test we took as candidates,


    after all, only measured our expertise with guns.


    “Um,” I say, retracting my excitement just a bit. “Just…some target practice at summer camp,” I lie.


    Because I have that, but also a few years of private tutoring. Jesse and Rafe got hand–to–handbat


    lessons which dad decided were too rough for me, so mom? She hired a world–ss archer to teach


    me this more “delicate” sport.


    The Captain smirks at me, clearly seeing through my lie, but he gestures towards the range of targets


    at the far end of the room. Humans, I know, would struggle to make out the details that far down the


    room, but our wolf eyesight has no trouble making out the bullseye at the center of each.


    The three of us line up at the red line painted across the floor, paying close attention to the Captain as


    he gives us all a brief introduction to the bow and basic instructions on how to fire it. I listen closely


    even if I don’t need it, wanting to soak up every bit of instruction avable to me.


    Because I am quite determined to do well in this course, and I suspect that it – like our Chemistry exam


    – has cuts at the end of term. Cuts which I’m going to do everything in my power to avoid.


    We start shooting as the Captain stands aside as watches us from behind. My muscles sigh happily as


    I step into the familiar stance and draw the bow. The string pulls back easily on the unfamiliar


    compound weapon I trained on recurve, which requires more strength. But I take aim and let my first


    arrow fly, following it up with three more as I get used to the feel of the weapon.


    –


    All four of my shots hit the target, though none of theme close to the bullseye. I’m frowning,


    disappointed, until I nce over at the other targets and see that…none of the


    other two made any of their shots.


    “Retrieve,” the Captain orders, calm, and I sling my bow over my shoulder before starting the long trek


    to the target, even though there are more arrows already in my quiver. Still, it’s nice to have a clean


    target as well as an opportunity to talk to my fellow cadets.


    –


    “I’m Ari,” I whisper as the three of us walk side–by–side.


    “I’m jealous,” the small dark–haired cadet says, shooting me a little re, though I can tell by the way


    that his lips curl up that there’s not an ounce of malice behind his words. “Tell the truth – did you grow


    up doing this?”