Keryn’s body screamed in protest as she awoke and threw back the blankets, exposing herself to the cold morning air. Though it was warm outside, a perpetual chill permeated the barracks in which the cadets slept, leaving her shivering as she sat up. Her back arched as she leaned down to put on her slippers, and the broad bruise on her shoulder glowed angry purple. Pouting, she stood and stretched, feeling new pain spread through her body.
For the past week the instructors put the cadets through a rigorous physical-training program designed to identify each student’s physical strengths and weaknesses. Finding something at which she excelled, she pushed her body to its limits. Having undergone years of warrior training during her definitive school years, Keryn was more adaptive and possessed far more endurance than most, especially the frail Avalons. She was quickly identified as a front-runner in the class, a position that held both praise from her instructors and scorn from her fellow students. If Keryn learned anything from her previous training, it was that the person in front became an easy target to be stabbed in the back.
To her surprise, Iana also performed impressively. Though shorter than Keryn, her bright personality betrayed an impressive inner strength and belied her thin, muscular frame. To Keryn’s chagrin, however, the Pilgrim seemed more adaptable and rebounded quicker from injuries. While Keryn still nursed an injured shoulder, Iana showed no wounds from the painful training.
“Good morning,” Iana called from the bathroom when Keryn reached the door. Her nauseating morning enthusiasm proved her resilience. “I was starting to worry you’d oversleep.”
Keryn, yawning, leaned heavily against the doorframe. Iana, already showered and dressed, stood before the mirror to pull her long, blonde hair into a tight bun. By contrast, Keryn caught her own reflection and saw that the bruise on her shoulder extended slightly to her neck. It was a wound, she realized, that would be visible even when wearing the high-collared gray uniforms. Her eyes were still red from lack of sleep and her fine silver hair was disheveled and flattened against the right side of her head.
“I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to,” she mumbled, pulling her loose shirt over her head. “You were singing in the shower again. No one can sleep through that.”
Her hands still caught in the folds of her shirt, Keryn was still able to deflect the playfully thrown brush. Laughing, Iana moved out of the way so Keryn could examine herself closer in the mirror. Standing topless, she lifted her arm to look at a second bruise spreading across her ribs.
“That Oterian got you pretty good,” Iana remarked, admiring the colors of the bruise as it faded from purple to green to yellow near the center.
Grumbling, Keryn slid free of her loose shorts and tossed them toward the hamper in the corner. Naked, she stepped into the shower and turned on the water jets. Steam poured from the enclosed shower as hot water from the faucets drove off the morning chill.
Moving under the spray, she gasped in surprise as hot water washed over her cold skin. Gooseflesh spread across her as the warmth soaked into tense muscles and aching joints. Tilting back her head, she let the hot water cascade through her long hair and run down her face, tracing the line of her neck before spilling over the curves of her body. She sighed, feeling relaxed and rejuvenated.
“Don’t take too long in there or you’ll be late,” Iana said, leaving the bathroom.
Tipping her head forward, Keryn realized her roommate’s sweet voice and blunt reminder had shattered the sanctity of her morning shower. Lathering and rinsing quickly, she frowned.
Turning off the water, she dried quickly and dressed, skipping most of the primping Iana favored. Finally ready, her hair dripping slightly, she left the bathroom to join her roommate, who waited patiently by the door.
The halls were full of cadets moving between classes. The first-year students they passed contained a collective enthusiasm that was hard to ignore. Even Keryn, who considered herself far from a morning person, found herself swept up in the excitement. Their first class for the day was a new one for Keryn and Iana. Piloting was considered the single most important class at the Academy, since it involved more of the hands-on pilot training than any other section on campus.
Since it was their first class, first-year cadets had the chance to place initial requests on the type of ship they wanted to pilot on graduation. For Keryn, the choices were still too numerous. Still, her heart pounded by the time they entered the doorway to the classroom and took their seats.
An anticipatory hush fell over the room. Keryn sat up straighter, trying to see over the male Uligart sitting in front of her. Finally, the teacher’s door opened and a familiar Avalon appeared.
“Welcome to the most important course you will ever take,” Victoria said, setting down her personal console and connecting it to the room’s electronic network. Screens on each desk flickered, reflecting the image projected from her computer.
“Today, you’ll all be going through a crash course on piloting.”
Soft laughter came from the students.
“I intend to fill your minds with all the classroom instruction you can manage today, because tomorrow I’ll be putting you through the steps in a hands-on block of instruction. Study hard today and tomorrow will be a breeze. Struggle with concepts today….” She paused and smiled wickedly. “Well, luckily, we have a medical team on site to treat your wounds.”
“Before I can abuse your bodies, however, I intend to abuse your minds. If you look in front of you, we’ll start reviewing the major ships of the Fleet, starting with the smallest.”
The screen before Keryn shifted its image, projecting the three-dimensional image of a small, dart-like fighter. Its sleek body design left room for only a single pilot. Rotating the image, Keryn examined rows of missiles and machine guns affixed to the ship’s underbelly.
“The Duun fighter,” Victoria stated, “the personal fighters of the Alliance Fleet. Quick and maneuverable, the Duun is the main choice of most pilots who graduate from the Academy. Their heavy arsenal is capable of raining destruction down on any squadron of Terran fighters.”
“However, the small ships also serve a second purpose. The Duun is capable of electronically controlling up to two large-bore plasma missiles fired from one of the cruisers. Once a missile falls under a fighter’s control, the rocket remains in orbit around your ship until fired using your ship’s internal targeting system. A single Duun carrying two plasma missiles can bring down an uninjured Terran destroyer if struck in the correct locations.”
The image flickered and the small fighter enlarged. The hull elongated, widened, and flattened, granting space for more crewmembers. Long wings extended from each side, adding stability to the larger ship.
“The Cair transport,” Victoria said. “The Cair is a vital part of the Fleet’s arsenal. Aside from being the main transport for personnel moving from orbit to a planet’s surface, the Cair is also used during combat to deliver an assault team to a disabled enemy ship. The pilot of the Cair ship becomes more than just an aloof loner, instead being fully integrated into a team. You become more than a faceless individual sitting in the cockpit. You’re a vital member of a strike force, infiltrating and clearing enemy vessels. Though not as heavily armed as the Duun fighter, the Cair….”
Though Victoria continued talking, her singing voice drifted into the background as Keryn stared at the Cair image rotating before her. The Voice inside her grew exited at the prospect of flying a Duun, but Keryn knew its desire was derived more from the Wyndgaart mentality, in which a warrior relied on no one but himself.
Keryn, though, always found a deeper passion for being part of something greater than herself. The Duun appealed to her baser instincts but she yearned to be part of a team. She didn’t want to just be part of a squadron, like a series of fighters, but to be an integral member of an assault force. Her heart ached for the camaraderie her brother, Eza, described in his letters. Though a warrior, he spoke highly of his teammates and the bond they shared.
K
eryn would give anything to find that herself, especially the longer she spent as an outcast in the Academy. The constant mocking of Sasha and her friends was unbearable. Every day, it was a challenge not to drive her fist through the fragile Avalon’s face. Putting that behind her and being part of a greater good was just the escape Keryn wanted.
She continued admiring the Cair even as Victoria went on to describe the weapons platform, a bulky contraption that consisted of little more than a cockpit, a single pilot, and a dozen massive plasma missile tubes ready to launch a devastating barrage against any Terran vessel unfortunate enough to get within range. Idly, Keryn switched her image back to the Cair ship, rotating it, drinking in the ship from all angles.
“Finally,” Victoria said, finishing her talk about the weapons platform, “what most of you with real ambition truly desire—I give you the Alliance cruiser.”
The image of the Cair faded from Keryn’s console, replaced by a dominating image of one of the Fleet’s main battleships. Zoomed out as it was, Keryn could hardly make out any details. Still, the cylindrical ship bristled with forward and aft missile ports and rail gun openings.
“The Alliance cruiser serves every major purpose within the Fleet. Transport between galaxies, berth for squadrons, or devastating weapon system; the cruiser offers endless possibilities. Regardless of the ship you’re assigned, every one of you who graduates from this program will be assigned to a cruiser, either as a crewmember or part of the onboard squadron.”
“However, for those of you with the ambition to advance far within the Fleet, you’ll want assignment as part of a cruiser’s crew. The openings onboard a cruiser are nearly limitless for young pilots. In most instances you’ll begin service as one of the navigation officers, piloting the unwieldy vessels. Eventual promotions include communications officer, tactical officer, and, eventually, captain of your own ship.”
Victoria fell silent as the class examined the cruiser, magnifying different aspects of the ship. Keryn spun it once absently as she sought the hangar bay doors on the cruiser’s belly. Though she heard Victoria’s advice about the best advancement being through assignment on an Alliance cruiser, Keryn found the magnitude a bit daunting. Since she was from the small communities spread throughout the Wyndgaart home world, it was hard to imagine being responsible for so many lives.
No, she thought. My comfort lies more within the confines of a team.
If she had her way she’d be a member of the squadron, her ship docked among the dozens of others within the hangar on the belly of the ship. Flipping back through the images, she once again let a Cair transport drift before her eyes.
“All right.” Victoria’s voice broke the silence. “I want everyone to take a ten minute break. Take this time to clear your mind of all the nonsense about specific ship assignments. When you return to this room I’ll teach you the basics of three-dimensional combat. If your class is smart enough to pick up the basics, I’ll run you through a practical exercise before we end for the day. Be back here in ten minutes.”
The students filed out the back, many excited conversations erupting long before they left the room. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Keryn found Iana behind her, her pale face flushed with barely concealed enthusiasm.
“I’m going to be a Duun pilot,” she said bluntly. “To have that much power in my hands….” She gave an exhilarated sigh. “What about you? I have you pegged for cruiser all the way.”
“I’m actually thinking of requesting a Cair assignment.”
Iana was surprised. “Cair? Are you serious? Why not just ask for the weapons platform and be completely boring?”
Keryn laughed. “There’s something indescribable about the thought of flying a Cair, to be part of a team, something that important.”
“I’d start thinking a little smaller,” a familiar, annoying Avalon voice said.
Both turned to find Sasha and her entourage eavesdropping. On Sasha’s arm, a muscular Uligart snickered.
“Then again, I don’t really know if it’s possible to request to be a washout. Oh, well. The result will be the same.”
Keryn scowled.
Just one good punch, the Voice begged.
“Get lost, Sasha.” Keryn’s enthusiasm quickly drained in the face of the arrogant Avalon.
“Or what? You’ll prove that you really are a savage?”
Iana tugged on Keryn’s sleeve. “She isn’t worth it, Keryn. Come on. Our ten minutes are almost up anyway.”
Frowning, her previous excitement replaced by irritation, Keryn entered the room and took her seat. Biting back tears of frustration, she blindly turned off the image of the Cair ship.
“All right, class,” Victoria said, as the others took their seats. “Now let’s talk tactics.”
Burden of Sisyphus (Brink of Distinction book #1) Page 6