The Ninth: Invasion Read Free

garnered quite a bit of attention, but Brent knew there was more to it than that.  He was a Weaver, but instead of being an evil little brat with the ability to stir up emotions in others, he treated them fairly – even defended them against his own kind on occasion.  Not that it meant anything to him.  His ability to sense emotions in others was anything but dependable.  It seemed to fail him every time he needed it, although, if Angela was right, that might have been a good thing.  Apparently large groups of troopers gave other Weavers headaches.  Brent wondered how badly the staring troopers were upsetting Angela at that very moment.
    The solitude of the stall was exactly what he needed.  The silence granted by the walls, once they were secured to the ceiling, was far more refreshing than his morning shower.  The privacy offered by the facilities granted him enough time to collect his thoughts.  He wondered how the others were coping with their newfound popularity.  It hadn’t been his goal when he picked the training exercise, but their victory had thrust all twenty of the squad into the spotlight.  For better or worse, what was done was done.  Now he just had to face the consequences.  With his morning routine complete and a hint of hesitation, he stood still and waited for the stall to retreat into the floor.  He expected Cassandra to be waiting for him, eager to explain just how embarrassing all the extra attention was for her, but she waited at the entrance to the stalls.  As he approached her, she nodded politely and gestured for him to go ahead.
    Instead of walking next to him, she kept a moderate distance behind him as they made their way to the mess hall.  He felt like a specimen under study.  Every time he glanced back at her, she’d look away but it was obvious she had been staring at him.  As they neared the mess hall, he came to a dead stop.  He waited, but Cassandra paused as well.  Turning back, Brent walked up to her, took her hand and practically drug her into the mess hall with him.  Her face turned a deep red as she reluctantly matched his pace.  He made sure to guide her past as few full tables as possible as they headed for their division.  For the first time their division was lively, a sight no one believed the stoic SW was capable of.  He could hear their banter from half way across the mess hall.
    He found it hard to believe that only a few days ago the entire division had eaten in complete silence with military precision.  Even Valerie, the division leader herself, was making a scene as she loudly congratulated Tyra and pressed for more details.  The squad leader did her best as she reluctantly retold the story of their experience while Ronald, her second in command, did his best to fill in any details Tyra forgot.  It was painfully obvious she was overwhelmed by the attention.  The nearby troopers hung on Tyra’s every word as she recounted the Gauntlet.  Oddly enough, Cain was the only subdued one at the table.  He expected the bookie to be thriving off the attention.
    Brent smiled when he spotted his friends from the placement exams.  He had managed to get some of his fellow recruits into the SW and they had more than proved their worth in the Gauntlet.  Dante was politely smiling as the seasoned SW troopers patted him on the back.  Hiroko was beaming under all the attention while perching on Owen’s shoulder.  Erin sat across from Hiroko and was sticking her tongue out at the other girl.  Dante was the first to notice Brent’s approach.  He raised an eyebrow and started to smile when he noticed Brent was holding Cassandra’s hand.  She quickly wrestled her hand free.  When Dante started laughing, the other troopers were caught by surprise.  One by one they turned to see what was so amusing.  They cheered as Brent and Cassandra took their seats.
    “Would you tell him to cut it out?”  Angela asked Brent.  “He’s freaking me out.”
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