It was going to be one of those days.
Life in BAaT was never pleasant, but it was usually less awful. Kalyani had perfected the art of keeping her head down. It was a solid strategy. There were nearly three hundred students stuffed into these soulless walls; they caused enough trouble to keep most of the instructors busy. She’d been lucky enough to take to her biotics quickly. Excelling was dangerous, and so she bit back every protest and made herself as bland as possible. It was enough to keep her safe.
Except, of course, when it didn’t.
Court looked so scared. He’d been on Jump Zero maybe a year at the most, and he hadn’t learned to keep his mouth shut. He had all the makings of trouble—anger and a stubborn refusal to accept his lot. A few years ago, he might have gotten off with extra training and a few months of restriction. Once he’d tired of the isolation and the hunger deep in his bones, he’d have learned. Awful, yes, but effective.
Throwing him to the wolves seemed needlessly cruel. What good could come of having a child--too young to even have his implants--try and fight? It didn’t help. It was just senseless, inefficient even. Not that anyone cared. Not that she truly cared. She never said anything.
Kalyani breathed deep, the familiar tingle whispering through her skin.
And then fucking Nagamura mouthed off.
The training room flooded with whispers, little knives of viciousness and relief. Any time someone else was under the weight of turian eyes, the world got a little bit safer for the others. Kalyani turned her back on Court’s pale face, trying not to let relief flood her veins prematurely.
Kicking the shit out of a scared little kid was one thing; fighting one of the assholes that drank the BAaT kool-aid was another thing entirely. Kalyani liked those matches.
Caelnus’ mandibles flared with what seemed like interest. His head cocked to one side, unblinking stare moving between the two of them in blatant appraisal. A long, terrible moment passed. Turians didn’t smile properly; they just bared their teeth, neat little lines of razors. It was a classic threat display. Effective.
“Permission granted,” Caelnus’ flanging voice seemed to echo in the stillness of the training room, ringing with amusement.
Court shuffled off the mat, looking particularly small against the gathering crowd of students. Kalyani supposed this was a Learning Experience. It was strange being a part of this, being the whip when she’d spent what felt like forever at its mercy.
Kalyani stepped back smoothly, dark eyes focusing on Nagamura as she found her place. Cruelty seemed etched in his every raw, jagged line, like BAaT had crawled inside him and flooded his veins. He was fire and ruthless competition, the same viciousness she’d seen in her own classmates, in her own silence.
A familiar prickle began to build at the base of her skull, an electric bite flooding her senses. One moment she stood tall and rigid, posture too perfect—and then she flowed, slipping into a neutral stance, hands aloft and at the ready. She could practically feel her nerves humming, yearning to fire. The skin around her implants itched, fiery hot, ever sensitive.
Her hands snapped, one arm drawing back, the other dropping low and grasping at air, fingers arched like claws. A rush of power screamed through her, silver and cobalt blooming from her skin in a violent corona. She pushed, throwing a line of screaming blue light, sparking as gravity caved to her will.
Again. And again. It was simple to move, gathering mass effect fields, body surging with negative current. It was like it rushed to answer her, like it wanted to obey. Her heart leapt at the thrill of it, at how the nodules practically burned in her tissue, like little suns burrowed into her flesh. They answered so readily to her simple throws, watching as they shattered in sparks against flares of barriers. Learning.
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