Alex didn't struggle or resist. He nodded once at the hall drone and followed the escort away. Victor watched dumbly as his only real friend on the station was taken to be put on ice. He felt ashamed at his complete and utter inability to do anything about the situation despite the numerous times Alex had saved his hide.

That was when he felt the slip of paper in his hand. When had Alex managed to slip it into the palm resting on the side of his leg? Victor's first instinct was to look at it immediately, but he resisted. The club hall was one of the places the A.I. watched carefully, though the rooms themselves were unmonitored. Victor suspected that this was because the clubs had important responsibilities on the station.

He headed for the bathroom at a moderate walk, not wanting to raise alarm. Alex hadn't really broken instruction. Not really.

"Bu- but I didn't do anything!"

Victor turned at the familiar voice. It was one of the Reactor Club members, one of the ones that had been commenting on the nonsensical data. He and the other members were surrounded by three hall drones.

"Please proceed to the hyperbolic chamber in the med bay."

One of the students broke into a run. A the hall drone pod turned simply on its wheels, fired a stun pellet, and turned back to the remaining students.

"Please proceed to the hyperbolic chamber in the med bay," it repeated.

"Why are you doing this? We haven't done anything." Said the black haired boy with glasses.

"Don't bother, Schmidt. They can't be reasoned with. Those stun pellets cause cognitive decline in .05% of people. Better to simply go with them."

The black haired boy backed away. It was clear he was beginning to make a run for it, but the pot-bellied kid grabbed his arm.

"Calvin," he said, calling the boy by his first name. "Let's go." Calvin relaxed and hung his head. The drones watched patiently, letting the situation resolve. Victor guessed that their lack of action was a prioritization of saving resources, more than any sort of empathy. He wondered if the A.I. had it's own Eco score.

The other kids fell in line and were promptly escorted out of the club hall as other students watched and whispered.

In the bathroom Victor activated the holo-projection that prevented viewing in a private stall and unfolded the slip of paper.

Information Room 5. 2100 hours, station time. Tell Najar that Normstrom sent you.

Victor committed it to memory then put it in the waste disposal unit, closed its lid, and pressed the button to activate the mechanism that extracted water and evacuated the remainder out into space. Why had the drones not arrested him? There was no escape from them, they were on a station in the middle of space, after all. No avoiding it then, he would go to his next scheduled appointment as if nothing had happened. Maybe the A.I. had somehow missed that he'd been present in the Reactor Club room that day. He wasn't on the official club roster, after all. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was a plan.

Today he was scheduled on the combat roster, so he headed back down the club hall toward the center of the station. When his father first enrolled him in this school it had been without his notice or permission. Apparently getting him in had been in the works for a long time, before he was born. Victor had been informed many times that it was his duty to represent the Vance name while on the station. He had resented the decision made for him, but looked forward to being away from his father and brother. He missed only his mother and the one or two childhood friends that he'd left behind.

His research on the station had revealed that the school had been around in one form or another for a long time, hundreds of years. In its earliest incarnation it had been primarily a planet side combat school, readying young pilots and military personnel for the rigors of war. In peace time it was found that the environment and curriculum produced extremely successful people, from world leaders and mega-corporation founders to famous inventors and generals. The combat aspect was toned down, though they kept it in the name. Still, the old ways persisted in some traditions. One of these was the weekly combat match and the all-important Physical stat, the one that was brought down most easily.

The outside of the former lecture hall turned arena, Victor looked for his name on the roster. His heart dropped. He was on the same team as Roger Nettleton.

"Looks like we're teammates," Roger said, grabbing him by the shoulder and squeezing hard. Victor grunted and pulled out of his grip. "Sorry buddy. Didn't mean to harm your girlish figure." Other students, some who were going to be on his team, sniggered. Off to a great start.

"Let's get this over with," Victor said, simply. He already knew what would happen. Roger, who's physical stat was near a hundred, the highest, would throw the game and use the opportunity to terrorize Victor. He would be ready.

When the previous team vacated the arena they were allowed into the space. Just outside the door was a chest that contained whatever weapon would be used for the match. Generally it was a plastic gun that the A.I. projected lasers out of when you pulled the trigger. That was the case, today. Most of the time the space inside the arena was a lecture hall, but during battles the arena style seating was mechanically pulled back, the holographic partition was removed, and the holographic force field objects were added.

On combat arena days the main door to the classroom remain sealed. Players went through their respective locker rooms, instead. Victor and his team changed into their battle arena blacks in silence.

The arena was always different, and you never knew what you were dealing with until you entered it. Today the gravity was turned off, so the players floated to the green holographically projected circles on both sides of the arena for both teams. These loops were mere light projections with no force fields, so Victor passed easily though it with the other four players on his team including Roger.

Victor recognized a few of the students from the opposing team. One kid from the Comm Club, another that was familiar from classes Victor took, though he didn't remember the boy's name.

"Prepare for battle. Today's Rules: Defend Red player."

"Aw man. I fucking hate it when it's not a straight battle. Then there's some trick," said Roger to another player.

Green bars floated above each player's head on both sides, moving in real time. Over Roger's head floated the Red bar. He was the one the team would have to defend.

Holographic cubes with mirrored sides appeared to offer cover.

"Alright team. Take cover behind the crates and aim for their Red guy," Roger said, taking up the mantle of leader. Victor resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious advice as he floated toward a crate in front of him. At least if Roger was leader it meant that he couldn't do anything to Victor without losing team trust.

"Match begins in 3.....2.....1....."

A horn sounded and both teams started firing. Someone from their team, a boy with shaggy brown hair tied back, was hit with a laser from the enemy team. His health bar evaporated and was replaced with a red exclamation point.

"Player Peter Hornbuyer is retired." said the voice of the A.I.

"Shit," Peter said as a small green circle appeared around him and dragged him back to the main green circle to wait for the match's end. "It's one hit kills today, guys. Be careful!"

Victor noticed that, as he was firing, the lasers were bouncing off of the mirrored sides and back towards his team. In fact, he was pretty sure that Peter had been hit with his own laser. The memory of pushing off of the 'Y' shaped antenna flashed in his mind, giving him an idea. First he tested that he could actually move the holographic cubes. Sure enough the force-field physics programmed into the projections allowed them to move easily.

Victor motioned for the boy next to him, who was busily firing back at the enemy team, to come over to him.

"What is it?" the guy asked as he continued to return fire.

"I'm going to push off of your cube using my feet," Victor said. The guy shrugged. "Whatever, dude."

"Everyone, get ready!" Victor said.

"Vance. What the fuck are you doing?" Roger screamed. Victor ignored him, placing his feet on the adjacent cube and pushing up and at an angle as he shoved the mirrored cube above the enemy team. Though the other boy had been able to grab his cube and swim down with it, Victor was left totally prone. Within seconds he was shot with a laser. A green force field hoop appeared around him and dragged him back to the large green circle to wait for match's end.

It was too late, however. Victor's damage was done. It took only seconds for Victor's team to realize what he had done and begin shooting into the mirror floating directly above the enemy team, raining laser down over them. Within seconds three of their members went down, and at last a shot hit their Red team mate.

Another horn sounded.

"Match over. Victory Green Side."

In the locker as they changed back into school uniform, Roger approached Victor.

"Pull something like that without telling me again Vance, and you'll be going for a walk without a space suit." he said. No one else congratulated him, maybe because they were afraid of Roger.

But Victor had already forgotten about the match. The only thing that was on his mind was a meeting he had at 2100 hours station time.