Excerpt
A brown-skinned woman in a dirty leather jacket appeared below and sidled up to the helm. She had a shock of blue hair, and the over-the-eyebrow glyph of the pilot's guild tattooed on her face. "Vant says we've got dock clearance."
"That was quick," Vlana said, surprised. "Must be eager to be rid of us." She flashed Harkon a grin.
"There are benefits to being known troublemakers," Harkon mused, and gave Aimee a sideways smile. Aimee paused. This was a different side of her teacher than she'd seen in the school. Outside the walls, in his own vessel, Harkon Bright seemed to breathe easier. There was an energy in the mage's eyes that had always seemed subdued within his academic surroundings. Now it pulsed with a static charge.
"Yeah, yeah," the blue-haired woman shot back. "Are we good to go, Chief?"
Harkon looked at Vlana.
"Everything's battened down," the quartermaster said. "But they won't like this."
"That," Aimee's teacher said with a boyish laugh, "is half the fun." Turning to the blue-haired woman by the helm, he said, "Clutch, tell Vant to gun the metadrive to full power. We're going straight up."
Aimee's eyes widened. "Now?"
"If I wait," Harkon said, "we'll sit in the departure queue for three hours. I don't know about you, Miss Laurent, but I'd rather not."
Clutch grabbed the communication tube. "Vant, Hark says gun it to full. We're cutting the line."
Aimee heard an irritable voice jabber back.
"Oh," Vlana snickered, "this is gonna be fun."
"Hey, remember the time we gave those Kiscadian dreadnoughts the slip near Glimmermere?" the pilot asked over her shoulder. "At least nobody's shooting at us this time."
"It's the little things," Vlana confirmed.