The lonely little niche around the corner, just to the right of the cargo bay doors, was a place Wes often went to collect his thoughts and gather his courage. It’ll be just like fighting the drones on Level One, he told himself. “Ha, Level One,” his words nearly an afterthought. Level One had been a piece of cake to finish and he still held the highest score ever recorded.

“Sew, yeh!” a voice called to him from a distance. He turned. With one leg in his flight suit he stumbled backward until finally catching the wall and grasping for any dignity he had left. A slender yet sensual figure, albeit with flight suit and helmet on, stood at his side. Quickly resetting the trans-aid in his ear he heard, “So, Wesley, guess who they paired up for this one?”

“I don’t know, Stace…” he said, looking deeply into her vivacious, violet eyes and hoping his gaze go unnoticed, “…us?”

“Us,” she affirmed with a smile. “Just you and I, Wesley my dear.”

“Great,” he said quietly; wishing she liked him, knowing she didn’t.