Burden of Sisyphus (12 page)

           
“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 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’re 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 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.

           
Keryn 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.