The Brunel swung into view as the crew transport turned in from its parallel course to make its final approach to the shuttle bay.

It was Malachi's first time seeing a warship up close and in profile. It looked odd compared to the civilian and utilitarian craft he had worked on in the past. It looked like an extruded octagon which had been pinched at both ends. The stern of the ship housed the four main engines in a square formation. The prow was tipped with scanners and pylons and blinking red lights, and Malachi could see the long barrel of one of the main guns bulging almost the full length of the dark grey ship. Any other weapons the frigate contained were concealed and decommissioned. The Brunel was not an active warship.

There were no windows and no sign of a bridge, although he had expected that. Internal bridges were common design features. It meant the most vital part of the ship, her crew, would be most protected.

The longer a ship was intended to be out of port, and the greater the risk of a breach, the more crew spaces were designed to be fully contained. Of course, a warship would be built this like this, with the bridge constructed within a secure citadel, a hardened bubble of composite steel and ceramic designed to protect the people and systems inside from any physical, biological, chemical or electronic attack.

Not all ships were designed like this. Malachi knew of cruise ships that internalised the core systems so the passengers could occupy the outer hull and see the stars with the naked eye, but even these were often no more than portholes through thick hulls filled with water as part of the radiation shield.

Communication systems ringed the hull fore and aft and stood proud from the surface, sweeping the sky for chatter. Between them, blinking patterns on the hull guided the transport to the shuttle bay amidships, below the centre line, which glowed with a welcoming light.

Nina pushed Malachi's face away from the window with her head.

"That's the dream, right there," she said, admiring the scale of the warship.

"You want a warship?"

"Imagine the commission if I could broker a deal like that? Or the markup on milspec hardware. Even the code alone would be worth a fortune. If I stripped that ship down for parts I would never have to work again. I could live anywhere."

"We're here to fix it, not sell it."

Nina nodded hungrily. "You're right, it will be worth more once we've repaired it."

"Well, yes, but I still don't think it will be for sale."

"Everything has a price, Mal."

"Nina, you can't sell a broken warship. It's not ours."

"Maybe I could broker a lease for a while?" she murmured hopefully to herself.

"No."

"You're no fun."

"I'm here to learn. What could be more fun than that?"

"Learning is fun for you?"

"Of course!"

"You're so complicated, Mal."

The transport glided into its assigned bay and came to rest. The inner and outer space doors closed behind them, and they disembarked with the handful of other passengers the shuttle carried.

Now they were forced to interact they traded awkward smiles of greeting with the other cadets as they passed through the airlocks into the ship proper.

One officer was there to greet them. At least, Malachi assumed she was an officer. Her badges of rank were lost among the sleeves of a jacket that was tied around her waist, exposing a sleeveless green shirt, bare, broad shoulders and a breathtaking scar of pink and white rivulets that ran the length of her left arm from shoulder to fingertips. A slim datapad was held under one arm. She lifted the brim of the cap she wore and resettled it on her head at a higher angle, and critically surveyed the team before her.

Malachi and the others shuffled into a line, unsure what they should do.

"Good morning, crew. I'm Sergeant Hudson, your CO for the duration of your placement here. Shout when you hear your name."

She pulled the pad from under her arm, but it was not, as Malachi had assumed, a data pad. It was an old-fashioned clipboard with actual pen and paper.

"Cameron."

"Yes, sir!"

"Chambers."

"Here," said Malachi.

"Holt."

"Yes."

"Kielser."

"Sir, uh, ma'am."

Hudson looked up from the clipboard. "Let's get this clear to save any miscommunication later on. Sir or ma'am makes no difference to me. As long as you give me the respect due my years and rank you can call me your mother for all I care. You're here to see what you can do and what you can learn. You are not here to make me feel good about myself, and I am not here to do the same for you. Understood?"

There were some cautious nods from the room.

"Understood?" Hudson repeated, much louder than before.

"Yes sir!" the cadets chorused, more or less. Hudson raised the clipboard again.

"Better. Quinn."

"Yes boss," said Nina. Hudson smiled at that one.

"West."

"Here."

Hudson lowered the clipboard and dropped the pen in the centre where it snapped back to its magnetic housing at the top.

"Now, down to business. Each of you has been assigned a three-department rotation on board the Brunel. As a class, you will cover every primary system this warship has to offer. In your time here you will encounter other apprentices. Speak to them, learn from them. Officially I am here to tell you that you can find everything you need to know in the documentation and systems manuals provided. Unofficially, I can tell you that real world-experience and interpersonal relationships are as important as any book. If you have any questions for me, remember my time is valuable so keep them clear, concise and accurate and I will give you the same answers in kind. Waste my time, and you will learn nothing. You're here because you're supposed to be smart, so prove it. Understood?"

There was a chorus of affirmations.

"Any questions before we begin?"

West raised a hand.

"This is not a children's school, West. Just ask your question."

"What happened to your arm, sir?"

Hudson lifted her right arm and made a show of giving it a thorough examination. "Absolutely nothing, apprentice West."

"No, I meant the other arm." West pointed at Hudson's shoulder-to -wrist scar.

"For the benefit of apprentice West here, I'll repeat myself just this once. Keep your questions clear, concise, and accurate, and I will give you answers. I'm not here to guess what you meant to ask. Use your words. Use your brains. Understood?"

The group affirmed yes once more.

"You have been assigned personal datapads. You will find your schedule's, ship's map and other information about your training program in there. Anything else you need will be in your quarters. Now get busy."

With that, Hudson wheeled around and left them to it. It was clear she would not be answering any more questions today.

The class stood there for a moment until Kielser took the first steps toward the table. She picked up the six datapads and handed them out. Nina took two, and tried to give one to Malachi but his eyes were already exploring the room, and his mind imagining all the work to be done behind these walls. Nina slapped the datapad to his chest, forcing him to pay attention. As a group, the class picked up their bags, logged in, found their quarters, and headed to the door, exchanging introductions along the way.

Kielser fell in step with Nina and Malachi and introduced herself. "I'm Eva. I saw you on the shuttle. Do you two already know each other?"

"A little bit," said Nina.

"A lot," said Malachi.

"Where are you from?" said Eva. She shouldered her bag to free up her hands for the datapad.

"Oh, nowhere you will have heard of," said Malachi.

"Me too," said Eva. "I was born on the space station Endurance, in Peleg, but who goes there any more? I don't think the station even exists any more. Ironic, right? It was one of the first stations built in Peleg, did you know that?"

They both said no.

"What assignments are you hoping for?" said Nina.

"Bridge operations. That's where it all comes together. You?"

"Comms and encryption," said Nina.

"And you, Malachi?"

"Everything," said Nina. "He would take extra assignments if he could."

"Can you do that?" said Malachi, his voice rising in hope.

"I don't think so, Mal. You'll have to manage with the same number of systems as the rest of us mortals."

"Oh."

"Which three would you like most?" said Eva.

"Plumbing, manufacturing, and anti-intrusion passive defences."

"That's an... odd list," said Eva. "Plumbing?"

"It's the three systems I can make use of back home."

"Internal passive defence systems? Where did you say you lived?"

"What do you think of our Sergeant?" said Nina to change the subject.

"She's interesting," said Eva slowly. "I hope she won't be too difficult to deal with. We joined a school, not an army. You?"

"I think she's going to make things harder than necessary," said Malachi.

"Oh, do you really think so?" said Eva.

"Don't listen to him," said Nina. "Malachi here is an extremely poor judge of character. You should meet his best friend, Tila."

"Yeah, but what about Ellie?" said Malachi, distracted by his datapad.

"For example, note the complete lack of denial."

"Ellie is...?" said Eva.

"Ellie is lovely," said Nina. "Almost adorable."

"And Tila?"

"Well, let me put it like this. No one ever accused her of being adorable."

"Don't be mean," said Malachi, absently. He was still only half-listening and was wandering ahead.

Eva and Nina slowed until they were a few paces behind.

"If there's gossip I want to know all about it," said Eva.

"You do?"

"Yes, call it team building."

Nina grinned at her new friend. "Oh, I like you."