Captain Gill had told me about my mission, and shown me the letter the messenger had brought two days ago. It was a simple query to Headcaptain Lenwick to assign his top graduate to an immediate mission under Captain Shahan Quent. Not an uncommon occurrence this time of year, with the mission barracks empty just before graduation. Apparently I'd be replacing someone who'd been killed in battle. It thrilled me to think of how real this was.

It was amazing how suddenly this was all happening. According to the message, Captain Quent would probably arrive today. The use of the word "probably" was strange, but of course I didn't question it.

Last night Randa had helped me to fix a light pack to carry with me. At that time only she and I knew about the mission, but I was sure that by now she'd told at least all the Seniors. I wondered what their reactions would be. I also wondered what Captain Quent would think of me. I'm not tall, but I'm strong, as anyone mission training would be expected to be. My uniform � the boots along with simple cotton pants and a shirt now complete with my long-awaited missioneer's badge � was clean and purple, the traditional Minor color. It was very faded, but I doubted a War Captain would care about such a detail. My hair bounced as I unconsciously shook my head at the thought. My face is pretty round, and the short hair shaped to my head only makes it look rounder, but it beats having hair long enough to tangle or get in the way. My skin is pale and a little pinkish, and my eyes are large and brown. My favorite features are my big dimples, which show whenever I smile. I try to smile a lot, because it keeps my attitude positive. Captain Gill has always taught me that attitude is very important.

Captain Gillocki seemed as excited about the mission as I was. He was eager to meet my young Captain and converse with him. I knew the main conversation topic would probably be me, since no one knew me better than Captain Gill did, but warfare today would still be discussed. Captain Gill hadn't had much contact with active missioneers since his retirement from fighting twelve years ago, so this was a major event for him.

But there was a problem. Captain Quent didn't come that day. Or the next day or the next. I was nervous. The message had said "probably," but this was too far off. No War Captain would arrive over three days late. Captain Gill agreed with this, unless attitudes among these new Captains had relaxed significantly. He'd sounded doubtful when he'd said that. When I was beginning to think that I was going to attend the graduation after all, I received the message from an excited Baby that the War Captain was here, and I was to await him in the room we'd prepared for his brief stay � he'd need to speak with me privately.

So with nervous, excited, relieved, outrageously overjoyed butterflies in my stomach, I rushed to the room. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, and my heart skipped a beat as I jumped up to open it.

My Captain stood in the doorway, but I didn't see him. I saw only what he was holding in his arms and I inhaled sharply and took a small, involuntary step back. I was instantly on my guard.

"A puffan!" I whispered, both amazed and horrified by the 30-centimeter tall green sphere with the purple stripe down its back. Puffans are a life form indigenous to Skye. They look round, harmless, and sweet, but they can turn into monsters. Six meters tall and with deadly sharp teeth, claws, and a tail. Somewhat like the mythical beasts called dragons.

"She's harmless," my Captain assured me. His voice was light, but cold. "They're perfectly friendly until provoked."

I looked at he puffan again, and almost laughed out loud. She was a big round ball with six tiny legs sticking out and a huge, playful grin. She did look pretty harmless. She certainly didn't look like a monster.

Captain Quent set the puffan down on the floor, where she began rolling around joyfully. She moved by rolling from one foot to the next, like a wheel. I'd never seen a real puffan before, and I hadn't expected them to be so funny.

Now that I was no longer worried about the puffan, I turned my attention to my Captain. It was odd; he somehow didn't seem a likely candidate for a War Captain. It took me a second before the reason struck me � he was so young! He didn't look much older than I was, and could have easily passed for a student at Mission Training. He was short � only a handful of centimeters taller than myself. He was also thin, but at the same time very muscular. I could tell this because he had no shirt on, which was most unusual. From the descriptions of battle Captain Gill had given me, I couldn't believe that Captains' attitudes could have become so relaxed. Across his bare chest he wore only a thick leather strap with two empty knife cases, and some sort of pouch. He wore dark red or brown pants, a color I didn't recognize, and universal black boots. I wondered if he'd just come from battle, since his clothes were torn and mud-stained. That would also explain his tardiness. His face was dirty as well, and his black hair, as long as mine but less full, was stringy and oily and held back from his face by a strip of the same material as his strap. His eyes were large, brown, and kind of boyish, which made him appear even younger. But the features that stood out the most were his extremely chiseled cheekbones. They could have made him look either handsome or frightening. Or a little bit of both.

"You're Brytani Sarliss?" he asked me in his cold voice, after spending a few seconds looking me over as I'd done to him.

I nodded. "Are you Captain Quent?" I noticed that I couldn't keep a note of incredulity from my voice. The man's expression unchanging, he stepped away from the doorway and closed the door. "No," he told me, "but you're the only one who's going to know it."

I felt a small rush of adrenaline. This was what being a missioneer was going to be all about!

"My name's Taylor Tucker," he began. "Call me Tuck. In rank, I'm your equal. Captain Shay's my Captain, too."

I nodded, recalling that Captain Gill had told me I'd been placed under Captain Quent with two others. This must be one of them.

"Our first mission's not to find a mine. We have to break Captain Quent out of prison." He paused to let that sink in.

"Why's he in prison?" I asked carefully.

"Our team was captured. There were four of us. One was executed," and if possible, his expression grew harder and his voice got even colder. "One's being used for slave labor. I escaped during movement to a labor facility. And Shay's still there. They don't take chances with Captains, especially ones who've done as much damage as he has." Tuck sounded darkly proud.

"So why are you pretending to be him?" I asked, as I slowly absorbed what he'd just said.

"So I don't get assigned to a new Captain. Our team is not going to get separated."

"And someone had to be assigned to replace the person who was killed," I concluded.

Tuck didn't answer me, but I could see his teeth clench, and almost feel the fury at his teammate's death emanating from deep behind his eyes. I decided not to mention the event anymore, though it did make me excitedly curious. So I looked down at the smiling, happy puffan, still playfully exploring the room.

"So what's her name?" I asked.

The corners of Tuck's mouth raised visibly. It was the closest he'd come to smiling since he'd knocked on the door.

"Spike," he told me.