Irene, interested in space travel herself and any stories about fleets was all agog. She replied, "So you're an Army brat. That is what we call people who were born while their parents served in the military."
"It's what I am," Aruko added, trying to be helpful, "My mother serves. She's a science officer specializing in terra forming or something. So I'm an Army brat." He tucked his datapad in his pocket and slung his bag upon his shoulder. "So how about we all split to our rooms and then meet here and get some chow. You in?" He directed his question at everyone.
"Better make it your last meal probies," Devon interrupted. "If anything you look like you wouldn't make it past the entrance examinations."
Aruko was seized with an idea, a rather rash one even by his own standards. He said, "Bet you five hundred credits we all do and we score near the top."
Devon was up for a challenge and relished in the fact that there was always someone willing to do the dirty work for him. "I'll take that bet. Loser."
"We'll see who the loser is at the end of the day tomorrow," Aruko replied.
"Yeah. I wouldn't mind putting a boot up your snooty..." Irene was getting too much into it. Yet she knew Devon's type very well. She had to actually talk to them when she was at home. She was rather put out that it seemed the life her mother wanted for her followed her here. "We'll show you."
"Look forward to it. Easiest five hundred I ever made," and Devon walked away.
Irene growled, "I totally despise his kind. Oh it's just as bad as if I were at home." She then walked off without saying another word.