Celestine Nenano foij gerr Edelving, 17, Kalterborn Academy, Fjellheim, Danslo, Tantssvir system. (A LANCER STORY.)

The woman woke before sunrise. Celestine - not yet fully awake, still thought of herself as Celestine - stretched, her toes accidentally hitting the end of the bed. With a start, the woman known as Half-Cat opened her eyes, a sour frown spreading over her face. She had to start thinking about herself as Half-Cat. Celestine would have awakened back in her private quarters in Kneip Castle, overlooking the morning-sun side of Fjellheim. If she was lucky, she could have seen the first rays of sunlight hit the mountain Kneip Castle was built into, rising to bathe the walls of stone with glittering light. Even on an overcast day she could spot the moment the sun would have filled her windows with light, as the room itself changed subtly. Half-Cat didn't have any windows in her room, nor was it her room. These quarters were shared with her fellow classmates, all potential graduates of Kalterborn Academy. Half-Cat groaned softly to herself. She hated to share a room with anybody, and they were 27 in total: 16 women and 11 men, 13 from the provinces, 11 from the city proper, two from Zemler Hold Starbase and one from Bakbak am Komf. Sons and daughters of the nobility, most of them landless and obscure branches far from the main bloodlines, more than willing to pour their young at the alter of sacrifice for the state and crown. Only Half-Cat herself was a proper member of House Edelving, and her family branch was not even close to the true power. Nevertheless, she was a member of House Edelving, born of the blood, the highest ranking of her class. Not that it brought her special privileges. In fact, it served as the complete opposite - she had to prove herself twice as hard as everybody else because she was of the old and ancient blood. The last time an Edelving had failed to graduate from the Kalterborn Academy it had resulted in exile, and not just for the unlucky candidate. Dying as part of the training was acceptable, as people did perish from time to time, for any number of reasons. Half-Cat did not intend to become one of them.

Her eyes having adjusted to the darkness of the room, she rolled out of bed, feet on the stone floor. At least that was familiar. The sounds of near thirty people snoring and moaning, breathing and turning, asleep or trying to, would never not become unnatural for her. Thrown together in a barracks as common serfs, all for the sake of proper teambuilding. That was the official reason her instructors had stated, but Half-Cat was sure there was more too it. Three unofficial couples had already formed, and the fourth and the fifth were in the making. Bonding over the shared toil of hardship, the makings of an exemplar, a hunter or maybe even an infiltrator. Not for her. She was expected to fill the position of the leader, for better or worse.

None of her classmates had tried to kill her in her sleep - yet. Honor duels were forbidden, and may Passacaglia come back to shield you if you got caught causing the death of another student. Brawls and minor skirmishes were fine up to a point - the Academy guards kept close eyes on potential and established rivals. Since a spot in the shadows was denied her, she had to relay on her words and allies. Alas, none of the other houses were particularly indebted house Edelving, and Celestine - no, HALF-CAT - had learned that it was lonely on the top. A group of three, all from the same province, also tied by blood and house, were potential allies, staying so far from the intricate politics of Fjellheim. Perhaps they considered associating with her as a means of carrying favor. When they finally did decide to approach her, should she be honest of her place in the hierarchy, or be vague on purpose? She had to make up her mind and quick.

Luckily, she did have other options. The short one from Zemler Hold Starbase had displayed some interest of getting closer, and the Green River clan-member from Bakbak am Komf continued to look at her with eyes of naked ambition. Either of them would do well as a bond-mate, having displayed skills in close quarter combat already. Not the top of the class, but enough for her needs as a muscle to her mind. Not that her form was frail, her strengths simply lay in her words and her brain rather than her body. The physical training of the Academy had relieved her of anything not already hardened and trimmed when she got here. Despite being more petite and slim, Half-Cat knew she could punch above her weight.

The sounds of the room was changing. More people were waking up. She turned to look at the bed next to hers where Dillan slept soundly, Krau with an arm draped over his chest. At least they had been quick last night and not kept her from sleep longer than needed with their panting and moaning and groaning and... Half-Cat sighed. It was natural for people to form bonds, she reminded herself, and if sex kept your bond-mate close it was worth it. The fact that all of them were teenagers, the youngest just having passed 16 and the older ones on cusp of 19, most bodies filled with hormones natural or concocted in a lab, all of them prime physical and mental specimen of their bloodlines made sex a constant and ever-present contender. While it was considered gauge and faux par to form a bond with a house or bloodline not favorably viewed by your own, it was tolerated for the purpose of bringing the ruling elite of Danslo closer together and reinforce the understanding that while they remained planet side, internal politics matter - but out there, in space and inside a mech, you were just another nobody from a backwater planet not worth mentioning in the same breath as the favorite pet of the youngest child of the major house yours served. Perspective mattered, and so it was important to think ahead, long term, not just here and now. There was, after all, a life awaiting once you graduated from Kalterborn.

Half-Cat rose as silently as she could and tiptoed over to the washing bin by the door. Some serf had already changed the water, fresh from the river, freezing cold to the touch. The cold didn't bother Half-Cat. Better to have early access instead of having to struggle for a splash of water rushing to class, late already. No, get up early, take your time, observe and calculate, plan for the day, that was her way.

A shadow moved next to the door and became a shape. Taller than her, short hair, strong arms coming out of the darkness with grasping hands, as claws of the sky-demons made manifest, searching for her. Half-Cat knew in instant this was a fight she would lose. Grabbing the water basin she sloshed half of it over herself, causing wetness, hoping it would make her slippery, before using it as a shield to smash into the hands. A howl made muffled by clasping teeth and a shut mouth revealed that her attacker had high pitched voice. Either girl or gelded, and that did not help her right now. Keeping the basin between herself and the enemy - she had to think of this person as an enemy, not a fellow classmate, not a nobleborn - she rotated until she had her back to the door. Water dripped from her sleepwear, adding to the already spreading pool on the floor. Time to play it big.

With a half-thrust, Half-Cat feinted an attack, causing her enemy to take a step back. Then she threw the basin as hard as she could into the stone floor. It shattered in broken pieces with a clashing noise, causing several of the sleepers to jolt awake. Now the battlefield had changed. Voices of confusion filled the room, some angry, some upset, some scared. It did not matter. Half-Cat stepped forward, biting her teeth together as she stepped on a sharp piece of the destroyed water basin, sweeping her leg out, low and quick, to drop her attacker. With a second clash, Makmet hit the floor, surprised as Half-Cat rammed a handful of debris in her face, a yell of pain as pointy shards poked her eye out. With a roll, Half-Cat was out of reach, on her feet, backing away. The light turned on. Makmet's screams of anguish blended in and dominated the room, drawing attention. Footsteps outside the door, running, boots. Blood mixed with the water on the floor, pink against the white stone. She looked up, trying to spot a friendly face out of those approaching.

Dillan, Krau in tow, stepped around Makmet and put an arm around her. She shook it off, casting a glare at him colder than any river water could ever hope to reach. Krau's grey eyes widened as she pulled Dillan back a step. The boy had reacted with care and affection, and some part of Half-Cat appreciated that, but it made her look weak in the eyes of the others. Krau understood. Makmet stopped screaming and began gurgling. Fresh blood was sprayed in a coughing fit. Some of it hit Half-Cat's naked feet.

One thing was certain. Neither Makmet nor her classmates would forget this.