“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 inside the shower, 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 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.