“It is not our battle to fight! Have you forgotten the words of the Goddess?”
“I do not care for Athenna’s way.”
“Kenon, you could die the second you go into battle! We should spend your last days here—together!”
“At least if I leave I’ll be given a fighting chance!” He hadn’t meant to shout, and he most certainly hadn’t meant to hurt his mother like this. The last thing he’d wanted to do was add to her suffering when she’d struggled through so much already.
Forty-two years in an abusive relationship with her partner . . . Kenon was amazed she hadn’t already taken her own life. Yet, despite all that she’d been through, Khae always tried her best to keep her son happy and safe.
“I am truly sorry,” he apologized. He would have liked to stay and keep her company, but he couldn’t bear to be around her when she was in so much distress.
Not tonight.
Leaving his mother to stand alone in the dark, Kenon went back outside. He looked upward to the sky where the stars winked like tiny, glowing insects. It was strange to think that somewhere out there, a war was raging on.
And I am soon to be a part of it.
He would travel to foreign worlds and fight to protect billions of lives. Perhaps this could also be an opportunity to redeem himself, to prove to the High Council that he was worthy.
His thoughts drifted back to his shaming, the words of the Goddess, and what he’d been taught of the event held under her authority—The Purge.
Taking place more than six hundred years before Kenon’s lifetime, the Purge was a horrific event led by the tyrannical ruler, in which thousands of Drahkori were wrongly murdered, disemboweled, and then burned in a heap.
Initially, it was those Athenna considered weak, and those who defied her, that fell victim to her reign . . . Then she began to target scientists and engineers, and once they had all been eradicated, no one was left to maintain their weapons, ships, and equipment.
This somehow caused the Drahkori to believe it was their machinery that weakened them, and so the Purge became the downfall of their technology, throwing their society back thousands of years to a primitive era.
Kenon wondered what it would have been like to have ships—to have high-tech weaponry and other advanced devices. Before Athenna’s rule, he imagined, this must’ve been a wondrous world to live in.
Enough daydreaming.
It was time to get back on track. He would camp out tonight and return home in the morning to contact the Royal Empire.
1700 Hours, November 07, 2438 (Earth Calendar) / Outskirts of Ceida State, planet Dyre
Four days had passed since Kenon made his application to the Empire. Now he sat alone outside the academy on the steps leading into the training arena, awaiting the arrival of the dropship that would take him away from Dyre.
In a way he was glad. No longer would he be a burden to the people of Ceida, and no longer would he be the victim of their condemnatory glares. But as he looked around, he realized that in some ways he would miss this place. He would miss his travels through the forest and, it went without saying, he would miss his dear friend, Jhiral—a female graduate, his closest companion . . . his only companion. They had been through a lot together.
The young Drahkori’s focus was drawn skyward as a shrill, quivering whine caused the air around him to vibrate.
The Drocain dropship descended through the dreary clouds, pulling them down into long, spiraling tails, and proceeded to decelerate as it neared the arena. Kenon had never seen ships like this in great detail, only in low-quality holographic representations.
The dropship came to a stop, the circular door on its underside swirled open, and a glittering ray of light touched the ground. A Drocain warrior floated down inside it, landing on the pale sands without a sound.
From the warrior’s shoulders, a scarlet cloak fell, cascading down his back to just past his heels. The dark purplish armor he was outfitted with had a look of royalty to it, and beneath that he wore a skintight black suit. The exposed skin of his face was blue, covered in dark markings, and it shimmered as though speckled with water droplets.
He was Leh’kin—a species that inhabited a planet called Thei’legh, which resided within the same star system as Dyre. Kenon had studied them and their homeworld briefly.
Kenon rose as the warrior approached and nodded in greeting. The warrior returned the gesture and halted in front of the Drahkori, deactivating the holographic interface hovering over his forearm.
“Kenon Valinquint, I presume?” he asked.
Kenon nodded again.
“Right. Come with me.” He waved his hand for the recruit to follow and led him to the misty light beneath the dropship’s door.
Kenon stared at the light awkwardly and then looked to the portal above. It was a gravity lift, and although it appeared safe, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat nervous about entering it.
“Step in, newcomer. The lift is safe, I assure you,” the warrior said calmly, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Kenon cast one last glance over his shoulder, back toward the City of Ceida where other Drahkori were beginning to gather to witness his leave.
Yes, he would miss it. But only for a little while.
He bid farewell to his homeworld and stepped into the gravity lift, feeling immediately weightless as he was raised into the air. Once inside the dropship’s dark cabin, his feet were returned to solid ground.
There were seven other warriors lined up along the walls. They watched him closely, studied him. Their stares made him self-conscious, but he quickly forgot the discomfort when he heard the door close behind him.
The Leh’kin had entered the ship, and as he passed by the recruit, he said, “Take your place. We have a long flight ahead of us.”
Kenon waited until the blue warrior had disappeared into the cockpit before he turned his gaze to the floor and examined the small, circular plates the other warriors stood upon. He moved to the unoccupied space closest to the door and found himself glued to the floor. The plate was using some kind of constraint field to hold him in place.
The dropship tilted slightly as it took off.
This is it. Kenon’s life on Dyre was in the past now. He was about to start on a new path that would take him places he once thought unreachable. He knew he might never see his homeworld again, but he didn’t regret his decision. For even if he died in his first battle, it would be worth it.
Chapter
———TWO———
0430 Hours, November 08, 2438 (Earth Calendar) / Drocain Royal Empire Training & Ordnance Facility, planet Si-Gheila, Phoenix System
It felt like an eternity had passed before the dropship finally came to a halt, jerking Kenon from his light slumber. He wondered how long they had traveled for, and how he’d managed to fall asleep in the first place.
The dropship’s portal door spun open and Kenon raised his hand to block out the brightness that lit up the cabin. He stepped off the plate and followed the other warriors as they descended the gravity lift one by one, and the moment his feet touched the ground, he wished he was back in the ship.
The gray stone beneath him was ice cold, and the harsh winds only made this place more unwelcoming. It was vastly different from the temperatures he was used to.
In the distance he saw the snow-dressed peaks of mountain ranges, frozen bodies of water that expanded outward for miles, and above, a dark indigo sky dotted with stars that refused to fade as a dull white sun began to rise.
Kenon turned at the sound of footsteps and saw the blue-skinned warrior he’d met earlier.
“Welcome to Si-Gheila,” he said with a smile.
“Si-Gheila?” the recruit echoed.
“The quiet abode of the Khael’hin, home to some of the largest weaponry facilities in our military. What you see around you is what covers most of the planet’s surface,” the Leh’kin said, then muttered, “Not exactly my favorite place to be.”
&
nbsp; Kenon nodded in agreement. “Who are you, anyway? I do not believe you told me your name.”
“Levian ‘Nher.” The warrior folded his arms and added, “I must warn you, newcomer, you chose to join the forces during a rather chaotic time. I expect you will encounter many a hardship while you are with us.”
“I can handle it,” Kenon said rather sharply. He hadn’t intended for his tone to be so defensive.
Levian was silent for a moment, staring at the recruit through narrowed eyes. “I have never seen your kind around here, Drahkori. So tell me, why are you here?” He sounded almost sympathetic.
Kenon was hesitant to respond, but he couldn’t leave the warrior’s question unanswered. “I . . . I am here to prove myself, to seek redemption,” he murmured. “I hope to return what honor I can to my family name.”
The second those words left his mouth, he wished could have taken them back. If he hadn’t let them slip out so carelessly he could have lied and kept his personal troubles to himself.
Levian whispered something too quiet for Kenon to hear, then signaled for the Drahkori to follow as he walked away from the dropship. “Have you any experience in battle?” he asked.
“I graduated from Ceida State Battle Training Academy several months ago at the head of my class. The training is quite brutal and rather extensive. I suspect this will be no different.” Kenon looked ahead to the structure they were approaching. It appeared small at first, but he quickly realized that it was built into the mountains.
“Then you are naïve,” Levian said flatly, leading the recruit through a pair of energy shield doors and onto a lift tucked in an alcove at the front of the facility. Once the lift began its descent, the Leh’kin warrior continued. “On my homeworld, decades before this war, I was trained in ways no academy could teach. That training was then put to use during the civil war waged between the kingdoms of Oe’Nhervon and Oe’Delavion. But when I joined the Drocain Royal Empire, my skills were tested . . . and I soon found that they demanded improvement.”
The lift slowed and stopped. Kenon followed Levian closely down a long corridor. The walls on either side of the hall were mostly made up of glass windows, each measuring two meters across, through which he could see large, empty rooms.
“What weapons have you been trained with?” Levian asked, activating the holo-display on his arm. It looked like he was scrolling through a list of firearms and other equipment.
“Bow and spear, mostly. However, I have also been trained in hand-to-hand combat, and—”
“There is no need for further detail, newcomer,” Levian interrupted. “You will be tried with firearms in Chamber Two. Your first session has already been scheduled in anticipation of your arrival and you are expected to be there on time. You will enter a series of very realistic simulations, and although the targets are no more than holographic representations of the enemy, you must treat them as you would a true opponent.”
Kenon, having been outfitted with a black combat suit, now stood in one of the large rooms he’d seen earlier, awaiting the start of his first battle simulation. He hated to admit it, but he was nervous—afraid that he might make a mistake and be expelled from the training program.
Putting aside his concerns, he concentrated on the room.
It had concave walls that faintly reflected his image, the edges of the floor and ceiling were lined with white lights. The viewing window now looked like a mirror—someone standing outside would be able to see in, but for some reason he was not allowed to see out. On the opposing wall was a tinted observation port through which the recruit could make out the shadowed figure of his instructor.
Kenon anxiously tightened his grip on the crytal-loaded firearm he’d been supplied.
Crytal was a substance that could be used in a variety of ways, the instructor had told him. It could be liquefied, hardened, or baked into a crystalline state, and was most commonly used in the Empire’s artillery, as it made a powerful and highly lethal ammunition.
The gun, though smooth and surprisingly light, was awkward to hold. He’d never handled such a device before, nor had he been given the chance to familiarize himself with how it worked.
“Begin,” the instructor’s voice sounded over the speakers as the simulation chamber sparked to life.
Scattered across a landscape of brittle brown grasses were spindly shrubs and flat rocks glistening with crytal residue. Lifeless bodies were strewn about the earth, and plumes of dust and mud shot up as silvery bullets pounded the ground. A unit of Drocain aircraft streaked through balloons of black smoke—their sleek hulls glistening even in this washed-out daylight.
Sounds became clearer, more vibrant and real—the howling of strong winds, gunfire, distant explosions, the crackle of lightning and rumble of thunder. Shrill whines of Drocain ground transports competed with the rhythmic beats of human aircraft, mixing with battle cries and pained screams.
Drocain warriors appeared around Kenon, their images wavered for a few moments before stabilizing. Each of them was marked with an “ally” tag that floated above their heads, whilst enemy soldiers remained untagged.
Looking to his left, he caught sight of a small human figure crouching down atop a hill, trying to conceal itself beneath the branches of a bush. His camouflage uniform blended in well, but the green light on his rifle had given him away.
Kenon raised his weapon, aimed at the soldier, and squeezed the trigger. Shards of hardened crytal flew forth, shining like golden icicles. They splintered the human’s chest plate, piercing his flesh and spraying crimson blood across the grass.
There must be more than one . . .
He was correct. Out of the blue, he was completely surrounded. Nine enemy soldiers had taken up positions around him.
The recruit darted forward as his opponents opened fire, dodging bullets by mere inches, and tackled the soldier directly ahead. He snapped the human’s small neck, jumped back on his feet, then pulled a grenade from the clip on his thigh guard and tossed it back into the clearing where he’d been standing before.
The grenade detonated. The shrapnel tore the humans’ frail bodies apart, leaving one alive, who had taken cover in a ditch.
Kenon froze when he saw that the remaining soldier had mounted a rocket on his shoulder.
The man pulled the trigger and set the rocket loose.
Every muscle in the young Drahkori’s body screamed at him to run, but his limbs had locked up and he couldn’t make them move.
The rocket hit him square in the chest, the impact knocked him to the ground.
Kenon, still very much alive, propped himself up on his elbow and inhaled sharply, blinking a few times to clear his vision. He was back in the white room again—the simulated battlefield nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t so much as a scratch on him. He was fine.
“Had this been a true battle and not a simulation, you would have been killed. You must learn to observe and listen,” the instructor’s harsh words echoed off the walls. “We will try you with a new weapon. When you are ready we will begin round two.”
Soon the recruit was thrown back in the simulation. The same setting from the previous round flashed into existence with all the same scents and sounds—however, the holo-images of his teammates navigated the field differently now, as did those of the enemy soldiers. He surmised they must have been reprogrammed so that he wouldn’t have the advantage of knowing the location of his targets.
For this round Kenon had chosen a repeater. It was an automatic rifle that could fire continuously for eight seconds without overheating. The crytal capsules it carried for ammunition were able to burn through just about anything they came in contact with.
The repeater proved more effective against his opponents than the splinter rifle, but it did not lead him to victory. He failed round two in less than a minute, while he’d lasted in the first round for four. He wasn’t even sure what had happened, but assumed he must have been shot through the head to have been kicked out so quickly.
Again and again, the Drahkori graduate fought through simulation after simulation and never tasted victory. His energy continued to drain away with every passing round, and after six hours of training he’d lost his motivation and strength. He had been tested with many different weapons and settings, with and without the help of virtual allies, and yet every simulation ended the same way—in failure.
“The day is almost over, recruit. This session will conclude after one final round.”
Kenon nodded tiredly and walked over to where the weapons rack had turned out from the wall. This time he was allowed to choose two firearms, of which the secondary had to be new to him.
For his primary weapon he chose the repeater, the rifle he had used in the second round. It had felt the most natural to him and it took down enemies quicker than any other gun he’d been tested with. As for his secondary, he’d had both of his arms fitted with armored gauntlets. Each was equipped with an energy blade projector. To activate them all he had to do was flick his wrists a certain way.
“Commencing final round. Good luck.”
A lush jungle formed around Kenon, teeming with tiny alien creatures and packed full of tall, twisting trees. Heavy rainfall penetrated the leafy canopy above, pattering down on dark soil and gathering in bowl-shaped leaves that bowed under the weight of the water.
The smell of smoke hung in the air, and apart from a distant thumping that sounded like some massive piece of artillery hammering the ground far, far away, all seemed calm and quiet—there was not a single human in sight.
Suddenly, the bushes rustled behind the Drahkori and he spun around swiftly, giving his wrists a quick flick. A pair of bright energy blades flashed into being at his sides.
Kenon stared at the trembling leaves a few feet in front of him, and when he moved forward, a short human wielding a carbine jumped out and opened fire.
Kenon evaded the attack and rushed his female challenger. He lashed out at her and the energy blade cut clean through her neck, killing her instantly.
The Calypsis Project Page 2