Burden of Sisyphus

“I can’t believe I’ll have to put up with this for the next two years.”

“You won’t have to if you just kill her.” Iana winked.

The room fell into hushed silence, as a dour-looking male Avalon walked to the podium. Instead of wearing the black uniforms of the other instructors, who positioned themselves around the side walls of the theater, he was swaddled in a loose robe, which, left open in the front, exposed his well-defined chest and abdominal muscles. His unusually dark hair fell over his shoulders, framing a pale face. Screens on either side projected his magnified image and amplified his voice.

“Students,” he said, his voice deeper than most Avalons but still carrying singing undercurrents, “let me welcome you to the Alliance Fleet Academy. If you’re present in this room, you’ve proven yourself time and time again through a battery of cognitive and reflexive tests. You earned the right to be here.

“My name is Tyrus Brothius, and I’m the dean of this institution of higher learning. Over the next two years, you’ll be put through a grueling series of classroom instruction, simulation training, tactics training, and actual flight time in all manner of ship platforms. Though this room is full now, when it’s time for graduation, one-third to one- half of you will have failed. This will be a much-transformed auditorium at the end of two years.”

Keryn glanced around the room at the myriad of races present. All the major races had representatives among her class. Large Oterians were sprinkled throughout the room, their massive bulk and long horns blocking the view of the unfortunate students behind them. Sharp, bony protrusions of the Uligart mixed side-by-side with groups of void-faced Lithid. Folded Avalonian wings were tucked tightly against bodies, as the avian race filled the majority of the room. Their flight ability made them naturals as pilots, since they already grasped the complexities of aerial combat. Across the room, Keryn caught Sasha’s eye, as the Avalon looked in her direction. Scowling, Sasha turned back toward the front of the room.

“For those of you who succeed and survive the next two years, the stars become your playground. You’ll direct your ship on journeys the likes of which you only heard about in childhood stories. In two years, you’ll finally have the chance to truly live.”

The audience erupted in cheers. That was what they came for-the opportunity to become pilots in the Alliance. Keryn’s heart swelled at the thought of piloting one of the small Duun fighters or the larger Cair transports into combat. Looking over, she saw the same excitement reflected in Iana’s eyes. For both girls, it was an opportunity to break free from the confining limitations of their species. Everyone else in the room simply wanted to fly, but Keryn and Iana had something to prove.

“Over the next few weeks,” the dean continued, once the cheers died, “every one of you will be introduced to the available craft within the Alliance. You’ll be exposed to everything from the smallest Duun fighter to the inner workings of the massive Alliance cruisers. At some point during this year, your heart will cry out, as you pilot one of those craft, and you’ll know you found your calling. Your ship of choice is one of the things you’ll compete for against your peers.

“If you work hard enough, you’ll be rewarded with your ship of choice. However, more recompense will be yours if you not only graduate but succeed in becoming top of your class. The top graduates in each class are promoted into the office ranks as a magistrate, rather than being commissioned as warrants. Believe me when I tell you that this is a lofty position, one highly sought after and respected among the Fleet.”

He scanned the crowd, his eyes seeming to fall on every individual, as he perused the new class. Keryn felt his gaze linger on her as he scanned, a slight flicker of surprise passing over his face at the sight of her bronzed skin and brightly colored tattoos. Moments later, his gaze moved on, and she was left wondering if his stern appraisal was nothing more than her imagination.

“I wish you all the best during your tenure at the Academy,” he said after the long pause. “Around the room, you’ll see your future instructors. They are rigid and intent on teaching you everything you need to know, not only as a pilot but as a soldier. Each of you has much to learn. Don’t take the berating personally. All your counterparts will receive the same poor treatment.”

His comments invoked a round of nervous laughter, as the students tried to determine if that was a joke.

“Learn from them. Study hard. In two years, I’ll see you again as graduates and proud members of the Alliance Fleet.”

Stepping from the podium, he turned to walk off stage. An Oterian instructor, stuffed into a broad-shouldered black uniform, stepped forward from the line of instructors against the right wall.

“On your feet!” he shouted, his deep voice rumbling throughout the vaulted room. “You always stand whenever the dean or an instructor enters or leaves the room. Am I understood?”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” the students replied.

“Then you’re dismissed,” he said, as the dean disappeared behind the curtains lining the stage. “Find your assigned rooms and get settled. Classes and physical training begin first thing tomorrow morning.”

The students funneled out through the auditorium’s large rear doors. Once outside, second-year-students were there to welcome the new cadets and give them their room assignments. Iana and Keryn traced their fingers down the list in front of a second-year Lithid, who assisted them. Their names were written side-by-side.

With a broad smile, Iana turned to Keryn. “Let’s go find our room, Roomie!”

CHAPTER SIX

The long journey to Fatutu IV was punctuated by a few fights among members of the Goliath’s crew and Vance’s covert operations team. The team’s mood was sour, and even their tolerance of each other was low. Most of Vance’s time was spent apologizing to the captain and different officers throughout the ship instead of getting any relaxation time. When the captain finally announced they were arriving, Vance was relieved.

He accompanied his team to the hangar, eager to be on one of the first transports leaving the ship. Their uniforms were traded in for loose shirts and knee-length shorts. Even their disgruntled moods were replaced by smiles and friendly jests.

Loud laughter preceded the team’s entrance to the hangar. Ainj threw his arm comfortably around Nova’s shoulders. Yen and Eza joked like lost brothers, followed by the ever-stoic Ixibas and the stooped Tusque, bending low to pass under the doorframe. Vance came behind them but didn’t approach the transport.

“We wish you’d come with us,” Yen called.

“Is there any way we can convince you to join us?” Eza asked.

Vance shook his head. “No. I have promises to keep. You have fun. Above all, keep out of trouble.”

“I don’t understand why he worries about us.” Ainj’s voice sang in typical Avalon style. “It’s almost as if he doesn’t trust us.”

“Or he actually knows us,” Tusque added, his deep voice carrying easily through the open hangar.

“If you aren’t coming with us,” Nova said, slipping free of Ainj’s arm, “at least try your best to enjoy yourself.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Vance replied, as Ainj caught Nova’s hand, pulling her toward the transport.

“Say hello to Halo for us!” she yelled, as she was dragged away.

Vance waved, as the ship’s door sealed. Warning lights spun above all the doorways, telling him it was time to clear the hangar. As he left the vaulted bay, the doors slid shut behind him, so decompression of the chamber could begin. Vance didn’t wait for confirmation his team was away before he walked toward the depths of the ship.

With the Goliath in the process of establishing a steady orbit around Fatutu IV, Vance knew Halo would be busy with a multitude of minute adjustments in speed and altitude. Instead of bothering her, he paced the length of the long, cylindrical warship.

Taking the captain’s advice, he wandered to the front most observation deck. To the captain’s credit, the view was spectacular. The deep purple of indigenous plant life mixed beautifully into the soft pinks and reds of the lapping oceans. Even the polar icecaps had a faint pastel hue, absorbing color from the water and the soft ultraviolet light filtering through the atmosphere.

Ever the soldier, his eyes quickly moved to a closer view-Goliath. Missile ports and