"How do you want to be of service to the Commonwealth?" the Teacher asked. Twenty bright, young faces looked up at her, their hands thrust into the sky, hoping to be picked. This was the special day, the one they had waited for, the last day of Primary school. Tomorrow they leave for the Dakkar Foundation School. They would be the big kids!

"Siru, what do you aspire to?" she looked at the eight-year-old Quevar. Long, dark brown eyelashes the only hair on his body. Outlining the small almond-shaped eyes, as if they were drawn on. He puffed out his chest, standing as straight and tall as he could, mimicking the older kids when called to recite the prayer.

"I hope I am sent to navigator school, just like my brothers," he said. The Teacher complimented him and reminded him of the excellent Service Quevar navigators provided to the Star vessels, an ability unique to the Quevar. One by one, the children stood and announced their hope for Service. It would be up to the Selectors during Foundation training to decide what their Service would be. Finally, she was at the last child, Lito. Not a bad child, an orphan that learned too quickly and challenged her too often. An image of a janitor came in her mind, and she pushed it away. The eight-year-old stood as proud and excited as all the others. His long black hair, falling in his eyes, and he pushed it out of the way. Sparkling green eyes, perfectly round, betraying his excitement.

"Lito, what will you aspire to?" she said, tapping the stylus impatiently.

"I am going to be a star pilot," he said. Confident, his eyes daring her to contradict him.

She sighed to herself. "You can never be that. I will just put To Be Determined, TBD," she tapped into the tablet. No use stringing him along; he might as well hear it from her. He was a Shelbite, the sooner he learned his place, the better. The other children giggled, but Lito never wavered, his little hands balling into fists, the dark blue nails digging into the soft skin.

"I am sure the Commonwealth will choose a more appropriate service for you to perform. It will all come out in the testing. The Selectors know what they are doing," She said. Lito slumped into his seat. It wasn't the first time he had been told no. He would show them all.

"I will be a Star Pilot. You'll see," He mumbled to himself.

Chairs scraped across the floor as they emptied the classroom to meet their parents. It was the last day, tomorrow the shuttles would come, and they would be off to Foundation School. He looked across the field of parents collecting their little ones, searching for Madha. He caught Madha's hat amongst the crowd and ran to him. He smiled, his face lightening up, as he saw Lito running towards him. The best part of his day was picking Lito up at the end of school. His smile turned to a grimace when he realized the boy was in a sour mood.

"Last day Lito, last day. Let's not take any bad mojo home to Ladha," Lito, kicked the dirt and agreed. Madha reached his hand out, taking Lito's small hand in his. They walked home together, talking about important things, the stars, and news from the Temple. Lito quickly forgetting his anger.

"There is my big boy, no longer a Little one, but you will always be my little one," Ladha said. They were BenDahr. Short with broad hips and big heads and a perpetual smile on their lips even if they were angry. She wrapped her arms around the slender pale green boy, his arms barely making it to her sides. It was a sad day for the BenDhar couple, but they would never let Lito know that. BenDhar never allow their own emotions to darken a bright tomorrow for someone else. Never having children of their own, Lito had filled that hole in their world. They were scrappers, always going to a place where the Commonwealth had conquered a planet or species, looking for treasures to sell. Eight years ago, a Shelbite population had been eradicated from a moon, not too far from Dakkar. The fires were still smoldering when the BenDhar couple arrived. Madha had found the infant in the rubble, barely the size of his hand. One look told them he was Shelbite. A species that had dared to wage war against the Commonwealth.

As with any war, there were always orphaned children. Ladha and Madha raised Lito as their own. The rules were simple. All children were turned over to the Commonwealth by age eight. The Commonwealth would provide a proper Foundation Training, and the Commonwealth would decide how they could best serve as adults. Some species had natural abilities that the Commonwealth valued, their future determined at birth. All were tested, poked, and prodded, their natural and trainable tendencies uncovered. The results would be used by the Selectors. Perhaps Lito could be a technician or, if the couple were lucky, he would be returned to them to learn the scraping trade.

Lito laid in his bed that night, light from a street lamp bounced off all the toy Space fighters hanging from the ceiling. Four years in Foundation school, then off to Pilot school. He was so close, so close to being a pilot. He vowed then and there to be the best at everything. To work harder than anyone else, to do whatever it took. He fell asleep, his dreams taking him to the black.

Madha pulled Lito's hood a bit more forward, pushing the long black hair off his face. Glancing at the parked shuttle, children had already started to board.

"You ready to do this? Because I am not." Madha said, crouching in front of the boy straightening his jacket at the shoulders.

"I'm going to be a pilot, so I have to go to Foundation School," Lito stated with conviction.

"Well, I'm going to miss you, it won't be the same without you," Madha said, a tear forming in the corner of his eye.

"Madha, don't go all whiney on the boy," Ladha said. "He will be a pilot, I spoke to the deities, and they agreed. He will be a pilot," She said, seeing the boy beam with joy. Ladha nodded in agreement. She had told him the night before, not to spoil the boy's dreams.

"All Recruits need to board," a tall Dakkar Cadet called out in a crisp, clear voice. The children said their last goodbyes and boarded the shuttle. Lito tried to get up front to see the pilot's cockpit but was quickly pushed into a seat by a Cadet. Two Cadets walked the length of the shuttle, giving a stern look to anyone that was not sitting still, or crying, or just fidgeting in a way they did not like. The Senior Cadet/ Loadmaster, the last to board, closing the ramp behind him.

Lito took in every inch of the shuttle. The wide loading ramp at the rear of the fuselage, the empty brackets where a Medium projectile weapon had once been. His school was the last pick-up for the shuttle. Twenty students from his Primary school filled the last of the fifty seats, twenty-five on each side, facing one another. He could barely see into the open door of the Cockpit, locking eyes with a Cadet in the old Gunners seat, just outside, letting him know to sit back.

The engines began to turn up, the smell of lubricants burning off filled the cabin, causing more than one child to gag into their vomit bag. Lito breathed in the fumes, swallowing the acrid vapor with no ill effect. He held the edge of his seat as the vibration moved through the craft, threatening to throw them out of their seats. The gel cushions filling to keep their little butts in place. The shuttle moved slowly away from the crowd of parents and friends and hovered for a moment. The engine pods let off a grinding sound as they changed position, from hover to thrust. He could feel the nose of the craft being aimed at the sky. The engines were growing louder as they gained energy, the vibration shaking them in their seats.

"Prepare for liftoff, in three, two, one. Liftoff." The Pilot announced. The engines ignited, rocketing the shuttle to the black. Each second gaining more speed, fighting the atmosphere and gravity to reach space. Lito could feel the engines level off, keeping the force of gravity from breaking the old shuttle apart. The children screamed as they felt the crushing g-forces pressing their tiny chests to the back of the seats; their butts held firmly in place.

The roar of the liftoff engines stopped, more screams were heard as their legs floated in the weightless environment. They had reached orbit. Shortly, the Ion engines were engaged, pushing the craft gently towards their destination. There was a constant thrumming of the engines, that left many upset, made worse when they started their descent, back into the atmosphere, to their final destination, Dakkar Foundational School. With no windows and the vid screens shut off, most did not know what was happening. Lito understood and relished every minute, every sound, every vibration.

"Did I give the order to stand up!" the Senior Cadet bellowed. "Get back in your seats NOW!" Those that had started to leave quickly returned. "You will not move until you are told. AM I CLEAR," the Cadet yelled. Every eight year old on the shuttle bounced their head, their eyes wide with fear. The Cadet marched down the center of the shuttle. The children falling in line behind him, desperately trying to make their little legs step in time with the Cadet.

Hundreds of children were pouring out of shuttles just like theirs. Cadet's screamed at the children, pushing them into place, tapping them repeatedly to do as they demanded. The Cadet's herded them into neat lines. The sound of Tap sticks, striking small backs and legs, like a hundred bugs biting at the same time, exploded on their little bodies. Lito felt the sting of the Tap stick across his thigh and back and quickly moved into place. A smaller boy crashed into him nearly falling, and Lito instinctively grabbed his collar, pulling him up.

"Kid, stand here," Lito said, nudging him onto the painted footprints next to him.

"Sorry," he said, looking up. Lito could see the tears rolling down his cheeks. His big blue eyes filled with fear.

"Stop crying, or they will Tap you again. Just stand straight and look forward," Lito whispered. The pair stood still as the Cadet Instructors walked between the lines. The Tap sticks, making their unique sound, as random children were zapped, screamed, and fell. The Cadet's laughing as they did.

"No hood's," the Cadet Instructor yelled, yanking Lito's hood off and tapping the back of his knee. Lito fell to the ground, clutching his knee. The Cadet looked closer at Lito, even in the dark realizing what he was, and adding a few more zaps, Laughing as Lito squirmed, yelling at him to stand up.

"Cadet, leave him be," a voice in the dark ordered. The zapping stopped, Lito dragged himself to an upright position, biting back the pain. He would not let them see him cry. The children would learn that Service to the Commonwealth was a painful honor. Discipline was regularly doled out, and Lito would see more than his fair share. They would discover that there were special, elite children who the Commonwealth had identified early as having a skill or rare characteristic. The Cue they belonged to would accept the special children's punishments and be grateful for the opportunity.

The boy Lito had helped on arrival, was one of the "rare" children. For every infraction real or imagined that Jeval would commit, Lito would have the honor of his punishment. Over the four years of Foundation, Jeval would be forced to stand and watch, sometimes even inflict the punishment, helpless to stop it. Each night Jeval would bury his face in his pillow crying. One percent of his species, Raithe, was born brilliant. Intelligence scores beyond compare to any other species. The rest barely able to read and write, forced to labor in the mines, soon after they could walk. Their brilliance overshadowed by hyperthymesia. Unlike his eidetic memory, hyperthymesia was a memory of every event in his life, from birth to present. He remembered each event precisely as if they were happening this very minute, including all the feelings that were attached. The problem for the Commonwealth were the emotions. The emotional memories left uncontrolled, would eventually paralyze a brilliant mind. As the other children were put through rigorous physical training, Jeval would be trained to compartmentalize his emotions. The eight-year-old would learn by the end of Foundation training, to either control his emotions, or he would burn out and have to be put down.

One night, Lito could not listen to the whimpering anymore and dropped down to Jeval's bunk. In the dark, he crawled into bed and held him close as he cried.

"You have to stop crying," Lito whispered.

"I can't help it," Jeval sniffled. "They do it because of me. In my head, I have to re-live every minute of every punishment. I feel it over and over. It won't stop."

"No," Lito said. "They use you as an excuse. They do it because I'm Shelbite, and they can. You're elite. They're jealous. Now stop whimpering, stop crying, stop feeding into everything they want. Build a little room in that big brain of yours, and put a box in it with a lock. Every time something bad happens, you pick it up. Go to that room and lock it in the box. You never forget, you just put it in the box. That's what Lahda always told me." Jeval stared at him, the bruises on Lito's face had turned an ugly purple against his pale green skin. His tears stopped as his brain latched onto what Lito had said. It was a light being turned on in his mind, a powerful light he could never forget. Lito crawled back to his bunk and tried to find a way to lay that wouldn't hurt. A strange relationship had developed between Jeval and Lito. Their unlikely friendship grew from simple survival to best friends, brothers.

"Year two, Service Testing will begin and continue over the next few months. The schedule is posted." Instructor Cadet yelled. They all crowded around the screen to see when they were scheduled. Jeval was at the very top, beginning next week, Lito at the very bottom, along with all the rest of the To be Determined.

"Lito, what do you want to be?" Jeval asked, not that he hadn't heard a hundred times.

"Pilot, I have always wanted to be a Pilot," Lito said.

Jeval had watched him struggle with something on his tablet each night after bedtime. He usually left him to struggle with whatever homework or reading. Lito would always remind him he needed to learn it himself. Something was different, more than once Lito had smacked the mattress with a fist in frustration. Jeval decided to find out what was so frustrating. That night, he pulled himself up to Lito's bunk above.

"What are you working on?" Lito handed the tablet to him. Jeval glanced at the screen.

"Hmm, your formula for the burn rate is wrong," Jeval said. "should be .25897, try working with this formula. It's easier and takes fewer steps." He typed into the pad and handed it back to Lito.

"Where did you learn this?" Lito asked. "I have wasted weeks with the Instructors formula!"

"I made it up. It's what I do. Most of the formulas they teach can be done much simpler and faster. It really makes them mad, so make sure to show the formula they are teaching, but get the answer using this." Jeval said, "What else do you need help with? Astrophysics, Chemistry, pick it, I can probably help," anxious to help his friend while letting him "do the work," as he always said.

"I need to learn everything a pilot would know for the testing. But I don't even know if they are teaching me the right stuff. So I have been trying to learn on my own. I'm too stupid to understand it." Lito said.

"I can find out, and I can probably teach you," Jeval said.

"How?" Lito asked.

"You don't need to know. I have my ways. Even the instructors don't know what I am into." He said with a giggle.

It was nearly a full year before the To Be Determined were sent to testing. Lito took his seat in a room with more than a hundred other recruits. All identified as TBA. An older Instructor stood at the front of the class, as Instructor Cadets, walked around the room.

"This won't take long, so settle down." The Instructor said, "Answer only the questions you can. Try to get at least the first ten, which includes your name. Try to do some others. Stop and raise your hand when you find the material too difficult. Begin."

Lito looked down at the tablet, he had no sense of time, as he went from one question to the next, finally answering the last question he raised his hand. Nearly four hours had passed. Looking around, he was the only one left in the room. In all his years, the Instructor had only seen two, To Be Determined, complete the test. One was drawing pictures, but the other had gone on to invent great things. He was curious if the Shelbite would draw pictures or be brilliant and had called off the Cadets from interrupting him.

"Finally, return to your Cue," The Instructor said, watching Lito leave, and pulling his test as soon as the door slid shut. His curiosity peaked. "Trainer, have you graded this test?" he asked the AI.

"98% accuracy." The AI responded. The Instructors mouth dropped, shocked at the score.

"Integrity?" he asked, wondering if he had cheated.

"99% confidence the answers were derived from the knowledge base of the candidate," the AI responded. He sat back in his chair, thinking for a moment.

"Service position suitability?" he asked.

"Pulling additional data," the AI responded. The minutes stretching as he waited for the analysis. "Technical aptitude identified exceptional. Physical aptitude exceptional. "

"Hmm, this is interesting. He is the first Shelbite to go through. Trainer, Advance his classes by one level in all technical and scientific fields. Let's see where he gravitates. Year three will give us more data. Flag his file, category To Be Determined, add Technical Aptitude. In the notes section, add your remarks. Ensure this file is revisited and brought to the Instructors' attention.

The recruits were never told the results. It soon became obvious how they had scored. As the different groups completed testing, some would leave the squad, and new ones would arrive. Jeval was still there, and all the Quevar, Paleoans, and half the Dakkar, the rest were gone. The not knowing drove Lito crazy, and he finally asked Jeval what he thought.

"Bottom third gone, they will probably do another cut or two before we are done. Be happy. You made it past the first cut. There is hope you can be more than a janitor." Jeval said, laughing.

He was right. Year three testing happened; another third of the population changed. The classes had gotten much more difficult. Even physical training became harder. The Dakkar were changing faster than most, and their larger muscles and strength made the competition very one-sided. The frightened eight-year-olds had grown up to be wise Twelve-year-olds. As they came closer to the end of Foundation training, they had been given more free time to study. Their official Service position would soon be announced. Many already knew, but it wasn't official until the announcement and could always be changed. Others, Lito for one, had no idea what they were thinking. No one ever talked to him after the test. His classes were just changed, and he had to work hard to catch up to where they were. Jeval always tutored him, and when they were caught, Lito would pay the price. Some things just didn't change. The last of the tests complete, and six weeks left before graduation, Lito waited for a hint of anything. He just wanted to know and had received more than one smack for the asking.

"Tomorrow, Lito, you'll find out tomorrow. Or who knows, maybe you'll be dead, and nothing will matter anymore," Jeval said as they climbed into their racks. Four years in the Foundation had changed Jeval the most. No longer frightened and crying, he was sarcastic and more than a little dark. Sometimes even Lito wasn't sure if he was joking or serious.

As the barracks slept, Lito was dragged from his bed, a gag shoved in his mouth, a bag over his head. Dressed only in pajamas, strong arms carried him out of the barracks to the exercise yard. The bag pulled off his head. He spat out the gag. He wasn't surprised at the group that stood around him. The same five Cadets had terrorized him since coming to Foundation School. Something was different tonight, Ryhan seemed more menacing than usual. Ryhan came close to him. Poking him with his tap stick, laughing as Lito jumped at the shock. The others joined in, making him dance for them.

"So you think you're smart," he sneered, zapping Lito's chest and cheek. Lito cried out from the pain, "Smarter than the rest of us." Tap to the shoulder and one to the stomach. "What service job do you think you will get?"

"Pilot," Lito said.

"Pilot! A Shelbite wants to be a Pilot." Ryhan walked around, Lito, tapping, tapping, tapping. Lito jumping, squirming with each tap. "Isn't that a laugh, boys! I think we need to help you reach the stars." He laughed and started walking across the field. Rain began to fall again. The ground, already muddy and cold under his bare feet, quickly becoming a giant puddle. He shivered in his wet pajamas. The wind was beginning to blow. The shivering worse with each gust, and his arms wrapped tightly around. He was pushed forward by the mob, following Ryhan. Lito could see they were headed for the Communications Tower on the far side of the field. He had no choice but to follow. The other Cadets zapping him if he slowed down.

Ryhan turned to look at him. "Climb the tower, all the way to the top." Lito looked straight up, unable to even see the antenna, at least a 500-foot climb. "What are you waiting for, climb Shelbite, now!" Ryhan yelled at him. From behind, one of the Cadets zapped him in the small of the back, moving him forward. Slowly he started climbing, hanging on -terrified. Tears rolled down his cheeks, a frost forming on his face. Each bar was becoming slicker with the rain beginning to freeze. The higher he got, the colder and stronger the wind, making it hard to hold on to the tower repair ladder. His foot slipped, and he grabbed on with all his might. He could hear the crowd below laughing and cheering. He shivered with the cold. Teeth chattering, snot running, tears and rain blinding him, the wet pajamas freezing to his legs. The higher he got, the stronger the wind blew. A gust threatened to rip him off the tower, and he held on, wrapping his legs tightly around a vertical, hugging it close. He waited for the wind to die down. Only then did he realize the mob was gone. Alone. He felt like a fool. The anger boiling up in him. He screamed to the night, screamed at the wind. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, and softly he said to himself,

"I will be a pilot."

By the time Lito had climbed down from the tower and returned to the barracks, morning had already started. The barracks were waking up. His lips blue, Jeval hurried him into a hot shower. Lito slid to the floor. The hot water beginning to warm every frozen part of him. He cried from the cold, from the pain, from the fear, from the embarrassment. From everything, Ryhan had done to him over the years. Jeval watched his friend suffering, growing angrier as each second passed.

"I swear I will find a way to deal with Ryhan. Brains are stronger than brawn," Jeval said to himself. His jaw set tight.

The following day, Jeval started working on a plan to deal with Senior Cadet Ryhan. Lito would never take action against Ryhan, and neither Lito nor himself could take him physically. Jeval knew there were things a smart boy like him could do, and after all, the instructors had been teaching him all about the AI, and Data Systems at the Foundation. Never realizing a smart boy could make a weapon out of their teachings.

Jeval had recently been learning about psychological factors in service determination. Specifically, E-Factor, G-factor and D-factors, Emotional, General Intelligence, and something he didn't know existed, Dark Core. All the dark aspects that tip an individual from average, to enjoying things like inflicting pain, or hurting others for no reason other than they like it. From his first introduction to Dark Core Personality, he knew Ryhan fit the qualifications. None of their testings had revealed it, so what was missing. He had to find out.

It took him an entire week to break into the Senior Cadet files, and he was a little miffed at himself for taking so long. Rhyan's testing and skills comprehension were high, identified as an Officer Candidate Infantry, a very high honor. Jeval considered changing his service assignment, but that would be too easy. He scrolled passed commendations and letters, finally getting to the Psychological evaluation.

"Here we go, the brain and the heart. What do we have here?" he said to himself.

General Intelligence – score 150

Emotional Intelligence – Score 100

Dark Core Intelligence – Score 90

He dug deeper into the file finding the Dark Core test and carefully screened it for anything that would be useful. Just changing the overall number would not be good enough. He needed to change the answers to the test. He read the first question, "Most people would probably enjoy hurting others if they had the chance," Ryhan answered 1, hi-level of disagreement

"Hmm, that should obviously be a 5, hi-level of agreement." He giggled to himself as he went through all 45 questions. He noticed if the question referenced causing physical or emotional pain, Ryhan marked a 1.

"So, Ryhan, you are aware you are a sadist," Jeval said to himself, "I'll just change all your 1's to 5's, let's see what that does to your score."

He watched the file jump from 90, considered normal and healthy, to 270, Personality disorder. Pleased with himself, he sealed the files and exited the program. Next, he went after the base video system. There had to be a video of Ryhan being Ryhan. He found several. Lito wasn't the only child Ryhan terrorized, just one he liked the most. The school knew and wasn't taking action on controlling the Cadets. He searched for a vid of the tower event. There were cameras everywhere, and there had to be at least one vid of the event. Jeval had figured the best way to get the Cadets file opened and reviewed, would be at least one video with links to others. Timing would be crucial. He found a perfect video that started as the group exited the door and pulled the bag off Lito's head, all the way to the tower. Someone else had watched this, moving the camera to follow them. Smiling, he scheduled delivery to the Commander, and all the Senior Selectors, the day before their final commencement, and leaving for training schools.

Four more weeks, three more weeks, two more weeks. Every day, more and more recruits were finding out their service school. Lito listened to others announce the Service they were given, some happy, some not, but at least they knew. The Final week had come. Lito waited, Jeval taking a seat on the bunk with him.

"Still no word?" he asked.

Nothing, and there are only two days left. It's driving me crazy. You never said what you got?" Lito said.

"All, I was identified for Science, the problem they are having is deciding which one. I just told them I want Space, Astro, and physics with a healthy dose of everything else. They are still arguing. I'm fairly sure if you are waiting this long, you have it, they just aren't sure where they will stick you. It seems to me, a shuttle pilot would not be the same as a space fighter pilot. So there you go. Be happy. I'm getting tired of hearing I wanna Be a Space Pilot," Jeval said, mimicking a whiney kid.

"Lito, Commander will see you now." A Cadet Instructor called into the room. Lito jumped and quickly walked to the Commander's office. The door slid open as he approached. He walked in, stopping just short of the desk, and saluted the Commander.

The Commander remained seated at his desk, looking at the youth in front of him. A Shelbite had scored well enough all around for this? He could barely believe it. Even taking 20 points off the score for being a Shelbite, he was still 30 points higher than the next Recruit.

"At ease, Recruit Lito, I am authorized to offer you a Pilot's Position. Only a few get an offer to be a pilot and even fewer succeed. Your test scores, along with your physical and overall scores, qualify you." The Commander watched the young man before him. Lito fought to remain composed. He focused on his breathing while the Commander finished what he was saying. "I can tell you this will not be easy for you. There isn't a ship out there that wasn't engaged during the Shelbite war. Perhaps you want to consider something else, with your scores, I can get you moved to a different service job." He could see the faded bruises on the boy's face and could guess how it happened. His conscious told him the boy should have been treated as an elite. Instead, he survived four years as a whipping boy. He pushed the thought from his mind. "Recruit Lito, what do you say?"

Lito took a breath, calmed his nerves, "Sir, I accept," he said, a smile on his face, his eyes blazing with pride. He had made it. Boldly, he asked, "Has the aircraft school been identified, Sir?" The Commander looked down at his notes; his eyebrows creasing slightly.

"Fighters, Carrier Fighters." The Commander looked at him and said, "good luck, Recruit Lito, the black is not friendly. Not where you are going."

Lito stood at attention, saluted, "Thank you, sir," turned and left. He jumped, skipped, ran down the corridors back to the Cue. The smile on his face, telling the result. Jeval leaned against the rack. He didn't need to be told Lito had gotten his wish. Accessing the mainframe, bypassing security, was what kept him busy and interested. He never changed any of Lito's information, just watched as he tested, and notes were added to his file. He let things play out, this was Lito's battle to win, and he respected that. He just never liked being in the dark.

Their celebration was interrupted by a ruckus at the far end of the hall. Six armed base security had burst through the door and had Ryhan on the floor. Lito and Jeval got closer to try and find out what was going on. The Security Team Lead had read off a list of charges before they got close enough, all they heard now was Ryhan pleading to be released. That he had not done anything, he was innocent.

"Are you calling the Commander a Lier, we have all seen the Vids, you sick freak!" He bellowed at Ryhan. The Security Team Lead's face barely an inch from Ryhan's, the man's spit was drooling down Ryhan's cheeks. "Get that piece of trash out of here, straight to the brig; Commander will deal with him later. The rest of you get back to your business," the lead bellowed at the room.

Two burly security guards had Ryhan by both arms, his hands cuffed behind his back. They were escorting him out of the room. Ryhan looked up and caught Jeval's eyes. Laughing, Jeval tipped an imaginary hat to him and performed a grand bow. Ryhan knew at that moment, Jeval had done something, somehow got him arrested. They heard him yelling,

"Jeval did something, he screwed with the computers, something, I'm innocent!" his voice fading away down the hall.

"Well, I think we are now done here," Jeval said.

"What did you do?" Lito asked.

"Suffice it to say that there are many ways to win against an opponent like Ryhan. I simply helped the Commander and the Selectors see the things they may have overlooked." Jeval said smugly.

"What do you think will happen to him?" Lito asked.

"To Be Determined," Jeval said. "To Be Determined."