Sunshine
Breathe. Breathe. Don't sweat. You've got this.
Ivy's right leg bounced in nervous anticipation, trying to conceal the worry on her face.
This was the real deal.
Around her was a waiting room full of Navy personnel. Ivy stared out the window, trying to distract herself from her nerves with the grandeur of the fleet and neighboring city planet below.
She had passed the Naval Academy with flying colors, pun intended. Now it was time for the entrance exam that would determine which squadron and what kind of spacecraft she would be flying. What she would start out as, anyway.
Choice and potential were taken into account for which type of exam she would be given. Ivy had chosen big, backed by her academic performance which in truth was averagely "satisfactory" yet "promising" according to the eye of a few seasoned teachers of hers.
Starfighter.
The best of the best. The poster child of the Navy. Starfighter pilots were elite, and competition for those positions was super high.
Based on how she scored though, she would either walk out of that simulation room with a Starfighter badge, or be assigned to another division. Gunship, transport crew, flight tech...
Doubt seeped into her thoughts.
Competition wasn't exactly Ivy's thing. She didn't come from a family legacy of pilots. She wasn't sure if she even had passion for flying.
Did she really have what it takes? If she did, she didn't think she would be asking herself that question.
At this point, she just wanted the test to be over. Glancing at the holoclock on the wall, she waited for the examiner to arrive.
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