04:00
You wake up. Right on cue. As soon as the egg timer you've repurposed as an alarm starts to ring, you're already up to turn it off and halfway dressed. Of course, you were halfway dressed when you went to bed already. As if you'd be caught dead out of your uniform, wearing some kind of pyjamas like a slacker. There's no comfort to be had here, not while there's work to be done. You allow yourself a little time to wash up and polish whatever didn't survive the sopor of the night before heading to the classroom.
04:30
The classroom is exactly how you've left it after every lesson: floor swept, chairs stacked, and blackboard wiped clean. If they weren't paying attention to it during the lesson, then tough luck. Today would require a bit of a different layout, though. You set up the chairs, clearing up a central area with the blackboard offset to the side so that whoever the guest lecturer ended up being could freely demonstrate their vulgar craft. You also jot down a basic schematic of a gun on the blackboard, having done some rudimentary research on their operation. Can't host a lesson while acting like a student, after all.
05:00
The attendance is… lacklustre. Four people have deigned to show up: Strangeness, I, Colby and Devo. You're mildly surprised that more people don't want an opportunity to hold a gun, but that's slackers for you. You can excuse the lack of guards, at least: most of them have probably been trained well by Chris. Just then, a surprising appearance wanders in: Vice Captain Mars. You're about to ask them if they're in the wrong place before they reveal that they are the lecturer Raindrop got on board. Well, how about that. Your hopes for this sorry lot have just shot up dramatically, along with your respect for Raindrop.
Of course, that respect is tinged with seething jealousy that you couldn't get Mars on board yourself.
05:30
You have to admit, Mars is good at this. They command the crowd (can you even call four people a crowd? You'd like to. It sounds more impressive that way.) rather well, keeping their attention as they brief them through the basic controls and rules of safety. It's… slightly infuriating. This is your territory, your queendom, and here they are upstaging you.
This can't do.
You pick up one of the guns laid down beside Mars. There's a bunch of different models to demonstrate how handling varies between them, but you don't care. Maybe there's some way to make it misfire. Make Mars look like a fool. Gain back control. You could put a bullet in backwards, or unscrew something, or–
'Dr. Chambers, could I please have that?'
Wait. What on Earth are you doing? Shit, do they know what you were trying to do? What were you thinking of doing? Your stomach curls as you mumble something about the bolt feeling wrong. Mars squints at you before you hand the gun with as much grace as you can muster by pulling all the fear down within yourself where it damn well belongs. They take a look at it, fiddling with the charging handle before raising their eyebrows.
'Shit, you're right. This would have misfired if I tried to shoot it. Seems to be one of Juno's designs. Thank you, Dr. Chambers.'
You allow yourself a small sigh of relief. This… was not according to plan, but the people in the room seem to look at you with a little more respect and admiration than before. It's less than you deserve, of course, but you'll take what you can get. As for Mars, they look positively grateful. Good. This is sure to get you in good with Chris.
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