“I know who you are.” With that, I nodded at his sister, informed her to follow me, and ran at a pace she could handle down the corridor.
If I had not been with her, and I had known the coast was clear, I would have done a subspace jump. To do one, I simply had to open a subspace pocket, jump inside, and then reopen the pocket wherever I needed to be.
The move had a limited range; I could usually only travel within 50 meters of where I was standing, more if I had a visual lock on where I needed to be.
It was one of the only abilities still available to me, one of the few that was virtually undetectable. I could not, however, hope to pluck up my energy blade and start swinging it around; it had a unique signature that could be easily detected. If it was detected, he would find me.
“Oh my god, I’m really, really sorry for making you late,” Elle puffed through a shaky breath.
“You have already said this.”
“I’ll let Lieutenant Ma’tovan know this wasn’t your fault. Hopefully he’ll only punish me.”
“Save your breath; run faster,” I commanded.
She did not heed me.
She continued to talk to me. I believe the humans called it chatting. It was inane. She talked about everything from the weather to who her bunk mate would be. She told me her mother was an admiral – recently promoted from captain – and that she really didn’t want to let her down. She told me her father was a bio physicist who was working on organic matter transportation. She also told me she wanted to specialize and become a doctor.
I refrained from pointing out that medical professionals were usually less flustered. In fact, I refrained from talking full stop. She provided all the chatter, I simply listened.
“Wow, you are hardly out of breath. How fit are you?” She stumbled at my side as she spoke, knocking into me on several occasions.
I could finally see the training ground ahead. I saw a large crowd, and as we neared I recognized several of the recruits from Team Omega.
“You’re not even sweating. Do Taskarians sweat?”
“Taskarians sweat. I suggest we sprint; our group is just ahead of us. We can make it in under 30 seconds if we increase our speed by a factor of 2.5.”
Once again she ignored me. Rather than increasing her speed, she practically ground to a halt. Collapsing her hands on her knees, she heaved in breath after breath. “My brother told me there would be a lot of running about in the training program, but I didn’t think it would start so soon.”
I looked from her to the training ground. I knew enough about Coalition discipline to understand that we would both be punished for arriving late to orientation. We would also become known.
I could easily have left her behind. For a moment I hesitated, turning on the ball of my foot to calculate the advantage. I would be punished less, surely, if I arrived sooner. However, it would involve leaving the Admiral’s daughter behind.
She looked up at me with a pleading face.
I recognized that look. I had seen it many times before. I had never been able to do anything about it though.
I reached out a hand, grabbed her shoulder and hauled her forward. I could have carried her, but it would have brought even more attention.
Instead I pulled her forward, careful not to let my fingers sink too deeply into her arm.
“We are almost there,” I assured her.
What was I doing? What was the point of pulling this human forward? It was clear she was not suited to becoming a recruit. In helping her I could compromise my own, far greater plan. I did not need to be reprimanded so early in the game; I knew that with enough official reprimands you would be expelled from the Academy.
Still, I hauled her forward, until we reached the training ground. I had hoped we could merge with the back of the group without anyone noticing, but I quickly saw the man in the lead turn to face us.
He was Ravang, a warrior-like race renowned for their physical strength and resilience. They were also renowned for their inability to forgive.
Ravang were huge, and Ma’tovan was no different. At eight-foot tall, he towered over most of the other races in the crowd. He had broad, bulging shoulders, and thick black skin punctuated by skeletal ridges. His piercing yellow eyes seemed to glow all the more in contrast to his dark skin.
“Our two remaining recruits,” he spat, “Finally you have joined us.”
“It’s my fault,” Elle began.
I kept my hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. It was an easy move, and she spluttered a little as she nearly lost her balance.
She was no doubt about to tell him her excuse. A Ravang would consider an excuse nothing but an insult.
“We acknowledge we are late. We are prepared to be disciplined,” I remarked.
And that was it. I didn’t claim innocence, I did not choose to distance myself from Elle. I stood there and maintained eye contact, not with the Ravang, but at a point just under his left shoulder blade.
He snorted. “You will not be disciplined, yet,” his voice rang on the word yet, “But you have just volunteered.”
“Oh god,” Elle groaned from behind me.
She said that phrase too much.
Before I could point that out, Ma’tovan pointed us forward towards the track at the center of the training ground. It looped around in a circle, and the turf was made of a yellow gel-like substance that I knew could differ in the resistance it gave. Should you fall, it turned soft, should you run, it turned into rock. “This is your first day. This is your orientation,” Ma’tovan’s rigid mouth moved around his words. His voice was guttural and deep. “I will now orient you to the most important fact in the life of a recruit. Danger. If you wish to succeed in your training, you must face it. The Coalition fights many battles. We are under constant threat, no mission is ever safe.”
I was sure not to make eye contact as I walked towards the track. I did however let my eyebrow raise a notch.
The Coalition did many other things. It did not just fight battles. It studied and protected the cultural heritage of countless systems, it explored, it invented, and yes, it protected. Within the Forces was a security division, yes, but not every recruit would be destined to join it. We would all go through the same undergraduate training program for two years until we specialized.
“There are races out there that have sworn to destroy us. Forces you will come up against. From Barbarians to Kore assassins to spacers, this galaxy is not safe,” he continued.
I did not flinch. Not on the outside anyway. At the mention of Spacers a wave of cold pushed through my chest. The memories returned in a flood, but they did not drown me.
It was why I was here.
I couldn’t forget that.
“Spacers,” a recruit beside me sniggered, “They are a myth.”
A mistake. Though the recruit was probably sure he was out of earshot, he was apparently unfamiliar with the auditory acuity of a Ravang.
“I have faced one,” Ma’tovan’s voice dipped low, quiet. It was not a gentle move; it felt like he was getting ready to pounce. “And I have faced no myth. This galaxy is full of danger, and if you wish to succeed in this program, you must show me you can handle it. If you are not capable, you will only be a liability. I will assess you all over the next five years. If at any point I believe you are unfit, you will be cut from the program.”
I was aware of Elle as she trembled beside me.
She would be cut from the program; it was the reasonable conclusion. She clearly had never faced danger, and she clearly was not capable of doing so now. Currently the prospect of being late to class seemed enough to turn her into a trembling mess.
I straightened up, hooked my arms behind my back as I had seen many Coalition Academy recruits do before, and I did not shift my gaze from Ma’tovan’s shoulder.
He turned back to Elle and myself. His stiff lips crinkled up into a sneer. “You will run around this track until you are exhausted and you fall. A Coalition Forces c
rewman will face exhaustion. If you cannot handle it, you will be cut from the program.”
“Oh my god, he can’t do—” Elle began from behind me.
I shifted in front of her and cleared my throat loudly, drowning out the rest of her sentence.
Ma’tovan’s nostrils flared. “Recruit, do you question my orders?”
“Exhaustion training is a standard element of the recruit program,” I interrupted before Elle could answer.
Why was I still protecting her?
I knew she would be cut from the program, and frankly, I thought that would be for the best. She clearly was not capable of performing at the level required. And though I disagreed with Ma’tovan’s methods, I personally understood how dangerous it could be out there in the galaxy. I understood, because I had been responsible for making it that way.
“Correct, now engage in it. You will run around this track until you drop. You will be given no water, no food. You will start now.”
I turned from him, nodded low in a standard salute, and began to run. Elle stood there, eyes wide.
She was clearly horrified. She would also clearly not last long.
Physically weak and mentally unprepared, I estimated she would only be capable of running around the track ten times before she collapsed.
The feeling of the air rushing through my hair and pushing against my uniform stilled my mind. The movement of my body, free and of my own choosing, could still cause me elation all these years on. Right now it focused me.
I needed to calculate how long I should run for. Too much and I would appear unusual, not enough and I would be under threat of being cut.
I needed to tread a fine line. In order for my plan to succeed, I needed to come out of this program in a position of trust. If I barely graduated, it would be harder to guide the Coalition Forces against my master. If I, on the other hand, gained a reputation for being too competent, I would come to the wrong people’s attention. Questions would be asked. My physiology would be examined.
Approximately 3.5 hours, without water, at my current speed and, considering the current ambient temperature.
Once I had completed my calculation, I settled into my gait, allowing my mind to relax.
I passed her several times. Each time I did, she looked more exhausted than before. Her face was bright red.
She would not last as long as I had predicted.
While we ran, Ma’tovan gave other tasks to the remaining recruits. None of them lasted that long, and soon several of them were back at the sidelines, watching us.
As time wound on, several more appeared.
It took approximately 32 minutes until Elle fell to one knee and then crumpled.
She let out a whine as she did.
Despite the fact she was the Admiral’s daughter, I assumed she would be cut that afternoon.
With her head hanging low, she all but crawled off the track. Then just before someone reached out to steady her and hand her some water, she turned back to me. “Come on, you can do it,” she cheered, despite the fact she could hardly draw a breath.
I turned to face her as I ran past.
“You can do it,” she repeated as she swallowed gulps of her water.
Why was she cheering for me?
I ran another lap. She was still there when I returned. In fact, she stayed right there by the side of the track, sitting of course, cheering me on when she could.
Suffice to say, I did not understand. It was hard to tune her out, but eventually I settled back into my gait.
As time passed and the day drew on, the temperature increased by at least 5 degrees centigrade. It did not affect me.
Despite how long I would run for, I would not sweat, and neither would I become dehydrated. Though my people could partake in food and drink, we drew our sustenance from the subspace field. As long as I was connected to it, I could continue. I simply had to be mindful to time myself so I dropped out when it seemed reasonable to do so.
As the hours drew on, I was mindful of the fact that more and more people returned to the side of the track. Some had gone away only to return.
Were they bored, had they been ordered there, or was there something entertaining about watching me run?
Elle had not moved. In fact, her brother had now joined her. He was crouched low next to her. No doubt they were discussing whether her performance would result in her exclusion from the Coalition Academy Training program.
Though I could fake an injury and pretend to be out of breath, I was limited in how I could display my exhaustion. I could not make my face red, and neither could I sweat.
I hoped my acting would be good enough to hide these facts. Plus Taskarian biology would be unfamiliar enough that no one would question my apparent lack of symptoms too much.
At approximately 3:21 I halved my pace. At 3:41 I reduced it again by three-quarters. And finally at exactly 3 hours and 50 minutes, I stopped. I mimicked exactly what Elle had done: I dropped to my knees, hung my head as if I was struggling for breath, and finally turned to face Ma’tovan.
People started to cheer.
Elle jumped to her feet, despite the fact she staggered, and clapped wildly. “I can’t believe you ran for that long!”
I took a deliberately shaky step forward.
Someone rushed up to me and offered me a drink. It was the same recruit who had elbowed me that morning. He now considered me with a wide-eyed look of wonder.
I took the water.
“Stop,” Ma’tovan, who had been standing at the side of the track with his colossal arms crossed, stepped forward.
The crowd’s cheers ceased immediately.
“You have run for approximately 3 hours and 50 minutes,” he bellowed.
It had been exactly 3 hours and 50 minutes, but I knew enough not to correct him.
“In 30 degree heat, with no water, in substantial humidity,” Ma’tovan continued.
My head ticked to the side as I considered that fact.
Humidity. I could not feel humidity; temperature was relatively hard for me to detect, let alone humidity. I had not factored it into my analysis.
I had run far, far too long. I understood why the rest of Team Omega looked so shocked now.
Humans, Taskarians, any softer race that required water to live … would not have been able to run that long.
I had just made a grave mistake.
“You have lasted more than 3 hours longer than your friend.” He nodded down at Elle.
She was not my friend; I hardly knew her. I did not clarify this fact.
I waited. What would he do? Would he send me to the medical facilities immediately for some thorough tests? Would he question me as to how a woman of my size and race could last that long in this kind of heat and humidity? Now I understood it was humid – I could see the sweat lingering on nearly everyone else’s brows. Just not on mine.
I had been very, very stupid.
I could have just ruined my mission before it even began.
If I had to, I could immediately do a subspace jump and retreat. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but that escape plan was always a possibility.
As I hardened myself to what would happen, Ma’tovan smiled. “You’ve passed the exhaustion test, but can you succeed at team work?”
My head ticked to the side in confusion. It was a habit I had picked up in the past four years.
“If you can run for another 3 hours and 50 minutes, you will save Recruit Elle Singh. If you can’t, she’ll be cut from the program. Only you can give her a second chance.”
I stared over at Ma’tovan.
Was he serious?
I’d been expecting him to order me towards the nearest sick bay at once to undergo invasive biological scans to find out my secret.
Elle sucked in a deep breath and snapped to her feet. “You can’t make her do that; she’s exhausted!”
“I can do as I see fit. I am your commanding officer, and I am carrying out the training program of
the Coalition Forces.” He turned his attention back to me. “This is your decision, Recruit Em. Will you push past your exhaustion to save a fellow recruit?”
I understood what he was doing. While handling exhaustion was no doubt necessary training for the Coalition Forces, team work was more important. If you could not push past your own pain to save another, you had no place aboard a ship full of crew.
Space was unforgiving. Unless you looked out for each other, you did not live.
“It’s your decision,” Ma’tovan repeated.
The track had suddenly become very quiet. All eyes were on me.
I still held onto the water I’d been handed. I understood implicitly that if I took a sip, I would forfeit the challenge and Elle would be cut.
She deserved to be cut.
“Don’t do this, you don’t have to do this for me.” She shook her head, her cheeks still red. She had a mop of curly, red-brown hair that fell across her face.
She seemed sincere. I had been manipulated and controlled for centuries; I knew how to spot it.
I also understood that I was her only chance.
She was not Coalition Forces material, so my decision should have been an easy one.
She looked up at me. Her eyes shifted and they filled with tears. “It’s okay. Take your drink. Don’t go out there for me. You’re exhausted.”
I wavered. I’d seen that look so many times before.
I had never been able to make a difference in the past.
This choice, however, was up to me. No one else controlled my legs or my mind.
But if I chose to continue my run, would I not seem even more incredible? Wouldn’t everyone’s suspicions run wild at why I was capable of such physical feats?
“Recruit,” Ma’tovan snapped, “Don’t just stand there. You have ten seconds to make your decision.”
She should be cut. I should not add to the suspicions people no doubt already held.
I took a step back and placed the glass on the ground.
This decision should have been an easy one. There was only one reasonable choice, only one path that would further my ultimate goal. And yet despite that I did the one thing I should not have, and I turned and continued to run.
Axira Episode One: A Galactic Coalition Academy Series Page 3