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Just A Farm Girl

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I'm in my element again.  It's been too long.

The network is self-contained.  No need for outside contact, as long as the supply chain doesn't break.  Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.  And entirely to be expected:  After all, no one challenges the Organization.  Right?

Next time, use better passcodes, you smug bastards.  Or not; it's not as if anyone else with my experience and my intent is likely to ever get this far again.

Always works to my advantage when someone underestimates the farm girl, after all.

Cord's still standing by the window, glancing out every few seconds.  Trying not to let on that he's nervous.

Like when we met.

I can't quite see his face from this angle, but those thick freckly arms are visibly tense.

If we survive this...Samella, calm your fizzing sixteen-year-old hormones!

Make that "fizzing seventeen-year-old hormones."  Given the circumstances, it's been easy enough to lose track of time.

That arrogant commander has quit bloviating, at least for the moment.  I think the last thing he expected was to be catcalled at.  Not important right now; it appears I've found something crucial.

Damn.  The system wants a second authorization.  Of course there'd normally be multiple techs here.  But it's easy enough to trick it from another station.

Double damn!  That's sun-gun fire, right up close...wait.  Too close; that must have been Cord shooting.  He's still between them and me; and if he gets in over his head, I've got a stunner and halfway-decent reflexes...

I look over, just in case.  He's not there, and the door is standing open.

Just...don't get yourself killed.

More gunfire outside.  A moment later, I hear exultant yells from the boys.  That's appropriate, because I'm definitely on the right track here.  I wonder what would happen if I told the system to ignore these particular protocols?

A warning, it would appear. This just keeps getting better, doesn't...

Oh, crap.  There's a bona fide battle going on right outside now!

Keep your head on, Sam.  This is up to you.

I've created a delicate balance of code and raw power.  One keystroke away from a chain reaction that almost certainly couldn’t be stopped.  It'd be over in seconds.

We've all lost whatever innocence we might have had before.  Our hands—even mine, for all that I'm no warrior—have all been bloodied.  But not like that.

I'm only seventeen.  Just a scared farm girl who's way out of her depth.  And too many kids my age have already died in the past few days.

There's no way that I could press that key.

There's no way that I can let them know that.