Intro
Cadet Amara Smith was running late. Again. This time it really wasn't her fault. Ok. It was. She was the one who lost track of time. She was the one who decided a walk in San Francisco off Academy grounds would be a good idea to help clear her head. She was the one who got mad at her roommate and suggested just where she could shove the datapad she accused her of using without permission (honestly, why the hell would she do that? She had her own... it wasn't like they were hard to get) and got in a fight. Again.
She also knew she was getting a reputation with her instructors as being chronically late to class, and so she found herself sprinting across the grounds, not caring who she was knocking over as she raced by. She burst into the lecture hall at the very second class was supposed to start, breathlessly ready to blurt out her excuses.
"I'm sorry I'm late sir, I-" She stopped mid-excuse and blinked. Just how dehydrated was she? This was not the lecture hall. This wasn't anywhere she'd ever been before. Was she even still in San Francisco?
"Well, now what?"