"Serina Barringer?" I close down my Link, having been using it to distract myself from the nerves that flow through my veins. When I look over to the door connecting the small waiting area of the testing center to the wing of testing rooms, I see a small man with a clipboard in his hands. He's a stout man, seemingly...vertically challenged, with his growth having gone out instead of up.

I stand, rising to my full height and walk to meet him, surely he isn't as short as he seems. Once we're standing side by side, I hold back a cringe at the difference. I've always been tall in comparison to others, as had Shawn and our parents, so I've been used to towering over woman my age at my full hundred-seventy-eight centimeters, but I'm used to men still being close in height, if not taller. This man though, stands roughly twenty centimeters shorter than me, eyes landing just about breast height.

For a moment, we stand still, the room silent save for a few stiff coughs in the awkward silence of the waiting area. I notice the man's eyes start to wonder, assuming it can be called that when he's simply looking forward, and feel the need to gag. I turn slightly, and hold my arms forward, managing to bring my chest into my body like I'm stretching, and he seems to have broken free of his trance.

"This way, you're scheduled for exam room nine." He steps through the door he's holding open and I slip in as it starts to hiss closed, following him quietly through the hall. Now I had never been shy about my body, maybe when I was thirteen with nobody to talk to except for Shawn, but since then, I embraced it. The body is the house of the soul. We were taught to nourish our bodies, no matter what the want because the body's want, is the soul's need. But standing there, with some stranger blatantly staring, when he should have been doing his job, made me uncomfortable.

Doors pass on both sides as we walk down the hall, the numbers on them increasing. With each exam room passed, a different emotion is heard. In the first few rooms, I can hear yips of excitement, whereas in the latter few, sniffles and or wails of despair bleed through the walls. My nose crinkles at the sounds and I drag in a deep breath, preparing myself to speak to the peeper. "Do we also apply for transfer here?"

He glances over his shoulder briefly to look at me then faces front again. "Yes, you will have an hour and a half for the test, then the whole application process shouldn't take more than half an hour. After you have completed that, the GTA will analyze your test results and your application then will determine whether or not to approve the transfer. Though the processing and approval of applications are done by a large think-tank of the brightest minds, therefore you will receive an answer about your application by the end of half an hour after submission."

"Are you saying that the decision of my final home is made in half an hour?"

His shoulders raise slightly and he faces the wall next to the door marked with a large nine, placing the clipboard into the slot. "Yes."

I bristle at his indifference. Surely, he remembers how he felt when he was doing this...like thirty years ago, and knows how overwhelming this is? He turns back to face me and I can feel the phantom sensation of bile rising up my throat. We stand closer than before and I see the greasiness of his hair and even worse, his face. I have to clench my teeth and look away to focus on anything other than what looks like someone who had just finished rubbing lard all over his head.

"You may enter. There will be a slot in the side of the desk for your Link, as soon as you insert your Link, the user interface will be projected, and your time will start. There will be an A.I. set into the test, narrating the instructions for each section. Any questions?" I open my mouth to ask if there was a reason he liked to be so hygienically poor, but his bland look bores through me and he speaks over me. "No? Great. Good luck."

With that, he simply walks away, back down the hall that we had just trekked before turning off in a different direction. Heading off to re-up his oil facial, most likely.

A chill rakes through my body and I can feel goosebumps rise all over my skin. So much for being helped. My lungs fill, chest expanding as much as it can to allow a calming breath to cool my senses. I look around the barren hall for a moment more, ears finely tuned to the sound of disappointment that saturates the air.

My hand raises to the sensor next to the door, activating the magnetic mechanism in the wall to open to the exam room. In the room, there's a single table top with a rolling chair seated in front of it. I study the tech in the room, the desk juts out of the wall, no supports to be seen in a way that it appears to float. The chair, however, does float. My eyes squint at the advancement. It is two metal plates, one on the floor with wheels and the other hovers parallel to the first. I've heard about the GTA's technical achievements but on Aoria we were never ones for depending on machines. I step closer, seeing a faint teal light gleaming between the two plates of the seat. The light originates from both plates, reaching out into the void between them. The color dissipates the closer it gets to the center then builds on itself as it nears the plates. The light is the electron sling housed on the outer ring of the plates to keep them in line with each other.

Shawn had once told me about the use of magnetic repulsion to carry large masses, I never imagined it was being used for space convenient chairs. I frown, the tech that I've seen since arriving could help so many back on Aoria, if only the elders were willing to put the betterment of their people over their egos.

A clicking noise sends my heart into overdrive. Out of nowhere, the sound rang through the room, originating from the table. I guess it's time to take the test.

Moving to the table, I take a seat on the floating chair. A yelp of surprise bounces off the walls of the room and I grit my teeth, having been caught off guard by the chair adjusting to my weight. I set my hands on the table and a hollow cylinder slips out of the side of the table, the perfect size and length for my Link. Unclipping it from my holster on my thigh, I set it in the cylinder. It shuts, and a teal-tinted hologram appears in front of me with the first question.

My hand hovers over the save and submit button in the bottom right corner of the display screen. An empty feeling resides in my stomach, forming a deep pit that houses all the nerves I've felt in the months leading up to this moment. My finger "presses" the button on the hologram and the completed test disappears, being replaced with a satisfactory Submitted message on the screen.

A short moment passes and then a new document appears, taking up the display. Now it's time for my planetary transfer request. This is the one thing standing between me and seeing Shawn again.

Name

Serina Marie Barringer

Preferred Name

Serina Marie Barringer

Sex

Female

Desired Occupation

None specified

Previous Planet

Aoria, B4-D19

Desired Planet

Unnamed, A1-C23

Reason for Transfer

Family

Explain Yourself in 3 Sentences

An outspoken individual set on helping others, no matter the way in which I am meant to help, I will help as much as I can. Someone who knows how to be self-sufficient, I've been on my own for the past four years. A strong "fixer", willing to go back and nit-pick to make sure things are in order.

You see a spider stuck in a web in your shower. What do you do?

a. Kill it.

b. Help it out and take it to safety.

c. Do nothing and leave it alone.

Well, that seems like an odd question. Why would they have situational questions on here when we had just taken the aptitude test?

c. Do nothing and leave it alone.

A report shows that an animal species is abnormally low in population. How do you fix the problem?

a. Bring some into captivity, protecting them until they have bred their numbers into a more stable range.

b. Restrict access to the animal.

c. Hope for the best.

Restricting access wouldn't make a difference if the reason behind the drop in population is overhunting by the predators. Protecting the species is the only logical plan of action.

a. Bring some into captivity, protecting them until they have bred their numbers into a more stable range.

A conflict between two groups of people over their ideals arises, how do you diffuse the situation?

a. Tell them that one side is right.

b. Tell them that neither is right.

c. Tell them that they're both right.

d. Other, ____________________________

That would depend on the situation. What are they fighting over? Is the group(s) prejudice? Who is ethically correct?

d. Other, listen to both sides, determining the best course of action only after critically analyzing who is in the wrong.

You are faced with conflict with the native people of the planet. How do you resolve the problem?

a. Do your best to talk your way out of the problem.

b. Consult with an ambassador/liaison of the natives and learn how best to approach the problem in a politically correct fashion.

c. Insist that both parties consult more on the problem until eventually, both parties agree.

This answer just seems obvious. While consulting more would seem fairly logical, there's no way of knowing what would be considered "offensive" when speaking to them without consulting an ambassador or liaison.

b. Consult with an ambassador/liaison of the natives and learn how best to approach the problem in a politically correct fashion.

I raise my hand, moving to scroll farther, but the document simply moves back into position, seeming to have ended with a small save and submit button in the bottom right corner. My brow drops and I scowl at my application. It had a few fill-in sections for my information, then four questions that seemed to range from ridiculous to downright confusing. What kind of questions were those? And why were they on the application?

I sit there, contemplating the peculiarity of the questions when a message pops up on the display.

Your application will be submitted in 3...

2...

I bolt up straight and wave away the message. "No, no..." I try to go through my answers again but the screen shutters and the Submitted message from earlier appears. "No!"

My heart sits still in my chest. My lips part and the room is silent save for the sounds of reactions from other people in the testing center.

There's nothing I can do now but wait for a half an hour to get my—

The holographic screen shifts again and a white background with red letters sits in front of me. A cry of anguish echoes about the room, mixing with the sound of blood rushing through my ears. At seeing the bright red words, my heart starts back up and works in overdrive, trying to filter the disappointment out of my body.

Transfer Request Denied