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    Axira: The Complete Series
    Axira: The Complete Series
    Axira: The Complete Series
    Ebook644 pages10 hours

    Axira: The Complete Series

    By Odette C. Bell

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    The complete Axira Series. Follow Axira and Jason fighting for revenge in this four-episode boxset.
    She is different. Powerful. A soldier of centuries.
    For 450 years, she was enslaved to a master of the Kore sects and forced to fight in endless battles. War, destruction, desolation – all wrought by her.
    Then she escapes. Seeking revenge on her master, she turns to the only group powerful enough to help her – the Coalition.
    She joins the Academy. It should be easy. But she rapidly discovers that despite her raw power, she’ll need a heart, and hers is covered in ice.
    Now isn’t the time for failure, though. A spy infiltrates the Academy and tears the Coalition’s intelligence to shreds. She’s drawn into the hunt. A hunt she will not lose. For she is Axira, the most powerful spacer the galaxy will ever know.
    ....
    Axira follows a runaway superweapon and the lieutenant who softens her ice-cold heart as they fight to save the Milky Way from her monstrous master. If you crave space opera with action, heart, and a dash of romance, grab Axira: The Complete Series today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell boxset.
    Axira is the 3rd Galactic Coalition Academy series. A sprawling, epic, and exciting sci-fi world where cadets become heroes and hearts are always won, each installment can be read separately, so plunge in today.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOdette C. Bell
    Release dateOct 15, 2020
    ISBN9780463290545
    Axira: The Complete Series

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      Book preview

      Axira - Odette C. Bell

      Prologue

      I sat on the transport, staring at the wall. My charge was next to me. I paid as little attention to him as I could manage.

      I just wanted this mission to be over. But then, as soon as it was, there would be a new one. For the past 450 years of my internment, I had not rested, I had not slept – I had simply done the bidding of my master.

      These fools won’t know what hit them, my charge growled from my side.

      I did not reply. Even if I had wanted to, I could not. The two pock-marked bracelets over my wrists would not let me.

      They locked me in. Though they were not attached to shackles, they fed straight into my body and mind. They translated the orders of my master straight to my brain. I did as he bid, and only as he bid.

      I was a spacer.

      One of the strongest. The jewel in my master’s crown. Along with my sisters and brothers, we had assured him dominance over his section of space for centuries.

      I cannot wait to see their faces puff up like jelly in the depths of space. We will push them out the airlocks, my charge continued.

      He was a repulsive character. From his figure to his voice, if I could have, I would have recoiled. Instead, I sat there, close to his side, eyes staring ahead, hands rested on my thighs.

      Soon it would begin. My master had sent me here to ensure my charge’s safety, to ensure his mission ran according to plan.

      The plan and the mission were as nasty as my charge. He would take over this transport, kill the crew and passengers, and take their cargo as his own.

      Soon it would begin. I felt nothing but disgust. It was strange I could still conjure the emotion – for centuries I had completed missions like this and worse. Yet still there flickered a sense of disgust at the things my hands did without my permission.

      One day I would break free, I promised myself. I had been promising this same thing for centuries.

      One day I would find the key to breaking the shackles that kept me aligned to my master.

      One day.

      …

      At approximately 07:34, the attack began. My charge and his mercenaries produced their pulse weapons, and with gleeful expressions, overran the crew.

      I sat there.

      I stared at the wall.

      At one point a member of the crew rushed up to me, mistakenly believing I was immobilized by fear, that I was one of the passengers and worthy of protection.

      He placed his hand on my shoulder, his face, plastered with sweat and contorted in terror, coming close to my own. Get out of here, get to the escape pods. I’ll keep them distracted.

      My arm moved up. Faster than the crewman would have been capable of seeing.

      My hand latched around his throat.

      I was still looking at the wall.

      I threw him effortlessly against it.

      There was a thud and a snap. He lay still.

      I stood.

      I could not rush to his side to see if I had killed him – the bracelets prevented all control of my body. All I could do was watch the blood slowly trickle down from his nose.

      From that point on, I did as my master dictated. Activating a subspace pocket, I pulled out my energy blade. The pocket opened up before me like a black hole. I alone could push my hand inside to retrieve my weapon. The subspace distortions would have ripped apart a human or any other soft-fleshed alien race.

      Walking forward, wielding my blade, I helped my charge overcome the transport. Though the crew had fought valiantly up to that point, managing to pin the mercenaries in the engine room, their fight was over as soon as I arrived.

      There was nothing they could do. There was nothing I could do either.

      I watched as I decimated them.

      Then I walked calmly through the destruction to the bridge of the ship.

      There I found my charge pawing over a control panel.

      I stood by his side, leaning on my weapon, which was as tall as I was with a glaive-like blade at the end. It crackled and charged with energy that rippled down my arm, seeping into my skin with nothing but a tingle.

      Below me, it singed the hull.

      They’ve put out a distress call, my charge snapped. He was from a race of boar-like creatures. Two prominent, pointed tusks stuck out from his mouth, always dripping with saliva as his long tongue flicked over them. Compound yellow eyes blinked out at the world, and a shaggy mass of black, dirt-flecked hair fell from his shoulders.

      Commander, one of the mercenaries looked up, unmistakable worry creasing his brow, a ship is responding. It is already in the system. It will be here in minutes. We should accelerate to light speed.

      My charge, the commander of this unit, laughed. Slobber spluttered out of his mouth and landed on the panel he still leaned over. Let them come. He turned to me, his eyes glinting.

      I still stood exactly where I had come to rest moments before. My blade still crackled in my hand. I still stared at the wall.

      There I would remain until my master told me otherwise.

      Let them come, my charge roared louder, his voice shaking through the small bridge room.

      His call was picked up by the other mercenaries, and they all smashed their hands down onto the panels and railings before them, stamping their feet, roaring, and preparing for battle.

      But the battle would not be theirs, only the victory would be. The fighting would be all mine.

      I could not shift my gaze. I could not turn to face the main computer screen. I could not find out what ship was coming to the transport’s aid. I would not know until it arrived. I would not know until I saw their faces. Seconds later, I would claim victory over them.

      I had no choice.

      As the time to their arrival neared, my charge snapped up from his chair. He had lodged himself in the central command seat, but his form was too large for the arm rests. As he jumped up, he ripped off one of them, and it struck my leg, resting against my foot.

      I felt it though I could not see it – I could not look down.

      They all rushed past me.

      Where are the passengers and the rest of the crew? My charge roared, licking his tusks as he headed for the airlift that would take him from the bridge to the rest of the ship in seconds.

      In the hangar bay.

      Be ready to open it once they arrive.

      With that, they left the room.

      They knew better than to turn to me and order me to follow them – I did not work for them.

      My master had loaned me to their mission for one reason: to curry their favor. And if their favor was not to be had, I would receive orders to turn on them.

      A favor from my master was a dangerous thing.

      If their actions did not please him in the future, my sisters and brothers would be sent after these mercenaries. No matter where they escaped to in this galaxy, my sisters and brothers would hunt them down.

      I stood there, staring at the same section of wall I could not turn from without a direct order.

      As I did, the onboard computer beeped in warning. Ship approaching, speed one quarter light speed. Estimated arrival 23 seconds. They are establishing communication. Rerouting now.

      I saw the reflected light of the main computer screen change color. No doubt it had just flickered on to show the ship that was soon to come to this transport’s aid.

      This is the Coalition Ship Zeus. We have received your distress call. We have scanned your vessel. We are picking up 8 Barbarian Mercenaries and 1 unknown life form. Please respond.

      No one would respond.

      If you do not respond, we will have to board your vessel.

      I stood there and stared at the wall.

      This is Coalition space. Under the Pax Accords, all transports traveling through this area are—

      I reached out. I brought my blade down into the panel closest to me. It cut through it with ease.

      My master did not wish to hear the rest.

      Sparks erupted from the panel, flames licking up and tracking over the broken glass and metal.

      I turned.

      I walked toward the airlift.

      I tried to close off my mind. Withdraw. I did not want to witness what I would do next. But I could not close my eyes, and there was nowhere to run to.

      I was a prisoner in my own mind.

      The ship shook as I exited the airlift.

      I knew that the Zeus must have latched onto the transport with its docking clamps.

      Soon its security officers and troops would board.

      I felt the subtle vibrations in the hull under my feet. They had boarded two floors up.

      I did not rush. I kept the same steady pace, my unblinking eyes staring ahead as I held my blade by my side.

      I passed injured passengers and crew.

      I passed the destruction the mercenaries had brought upon the transport. Panels had been ripped from the walls, conduits had been pulled from the floor, like guts from an animal.

      Everything was charred, seared with black streaks from the blasts of pulse weapons. The acrid smell of burned flesh and metal filled my nostrils. I could not have coughed against it even if I had wanted to.

      I heard my footsteps, gentle and rhythmic, as they echoed through the broken corridor.

      The ship gave another shake. I did not lose my balance even though a section of bulkhead nearest to me groaned and fell away from the wall, smashing through the floor and exposing a set of sparking circuits that crackled and danced.

      I walked right over them.

      They could not damage me. Their excess energy merely translated up my legs, through my body, and into my blade.

      When I reached the end of the corridor, I turned toward an airlift.

      It was broken. A woman lay inside, burns to her face and arms, her simple black tunic ripped and tattered.

      The panel above her head had been shot, its sparks still churning out, falling onto her and singeing her hair and clothes.

      One of her arms was stretched out toward it. She had obviously been shot seconds from escape.

      I couldn’t shed a tear for her. Instead, I walked in. Using my boot, I pushed her legs forward so the door could close. Then I leaned over to the panel and placed my hand flat against it. The exposed wires and jagged metal could not hurt me. No doubt they had killed the woman, but they did nothing to me. I pushed into them until my bracelet was flush with what remained of the panel.

      Energy and data transferred from the scratched and marked gold over to the panel. Within seconds the airlift lurched and began to ascend.

      I stood there, bracelet still flush with the panel, wide eyes staring out at the seared wall.

      The airlift shuddered to a halt.

      I turned.

      It opened.

      I saw them – the security team from the Coalition ship. They wore the classic Coalition uniform – neat tunics and pants with trim collars and pips. They came from every race. From the humans to the Bakarians to the Paranians – every race that had joined the Coalition.

      The man closest to the lift brought up his weapon. There was a moment where he stared at me and compassion softened his features. Then his gaze flicked down to the woman by my feet.

      Surrender your weapon, he snapped.

      He was human.

      In seconds the other security officers around him all brought their regulation pulse rifles up.

      They pointed them at me.

      I waited. Not because I wanted to, not because I could see the concern on their faces and appreciate why they were here. Only because my master decreed it. He was toying with them.

      Surrender your weapon, the human shouted again.

      He was their captain. I had met Coalition forces before, I understood their command structure, and I knew to look for the pips on their collars or stripes on their shoulders.

      You will die, human, I said.

      My voice was distant. It always was. Every word I had spoken over the past 450 years had always been a surprise to me. I spoke only what a creature beyond my mind dictated, never what I chose to.

      I walked forward.

      Reluctantly they opened fire. I recognized their hesitation – I saw their captain’s face. I appreciated the confusion and sorrow.

      Their bullets slammed into me.

      Each one pulsed up my body and into my blade. Without knowing it, they were making me stronger.

      I pulled my blade up, swinging it around, aiming for the captain.

      An ensign jostled into him, knocking him to the side.

      My blade, crackling with energy, slammed into the ensign instead.

      He was blasted back down into the corridor. He skidded along the floor, coming to a rest meters away, body limp, clothes covered in black marks.

      Fall back, fall back, I heard the captain plead.

      They kept shooting at me.

      I walked forward. My footsteps were calm, even, paced. I chose to hear them above the screams and fire.

      I brought my blade around, catching another crewman closest to me.

      They did not have a chance.

      Our bullets aren’t having an effect – hold your fire, hold your fire. The captain grabbed the woman to his side and pulled her back, pushing her out of my path.

      What the hell is she, what is she?

      We can’t leave Mathers behind.

      He’s dead. We have to get to the passengers.

      I heard their screams. I watched their faces contort in horror and anguish at their fallen comrades.

      Running scans, Captain, I have no idea what that weapon is, but it’s definitely absorbing our blasts, a lieutenant shouted as he ducked behind a broken section of bulkhead that had come away from the wall.

      Fall back. Head for the other lift. The captain, though he was out of my immediate reach, still looked right at me.

      Brave and stupid. Couldn’t he see that there was nothing he could do? Couldn’t he see that his forces were hopelessly outnumbered? If he wanted to protect his crew, he had to fall back.

      I could not share with him my thoughts, all I could do was shout them silently in my mind.

      When every one of his crew had reached the airlift at the opposite end of the corridor, he closed it using a device on his wrist.

      As the doors hissed closed, one of his crewmen jumped forward. What are you doing—

      The captain pushed him back, the door closing over a section of his sleeve. He yanked it out, his uniform ripping up his arm.

      She’s after me, the captain answered, even though his crew were now safely locked in the airlift and out of earshot.

      Yes, I was. My master believed you should always cut off the head first. Without a commander, a crew falls apart.

      I walked toward him. He backed away, always facing me.

      He brought his arms up. Let us help them, please. Just let us help them.

      You will die, human, my lips moved of their own accord, my words chosen by my master. They were beamed right into my mind.

      He kept his arms in front of him, dirt and sweat dripping down his brow. We’ve still got people in there. Please, you can take the transport. Just let us get them out.

      My arm moved up, my energy blade held firmly in my grip. I twisted it around until I held it out straight, blocking off the path behind me. The tip crackled and spat, energy arcing down and traveling through the handle and into my arm. It did not hurt – I could hardly feel it save for the lightest of tickles.

      I looked on at him passionlessly. I saw the desperation eating away at his features, yet he still stood. The pulse rifle was still in one of his hands, his ripped sleeve dangling over it.

      He did not give up.

      Please, we can’t leave them. Just let us save them. You can take the goddamned ship.

      You will die, human, I repeated.

      The section of corridor we were in was damaged, and as I stood there emotionlessly, my arm stretched out from my side as I blocked the path behind me, one of the conduits above exploded. Pipes and circuits erupted out of it, slamming against my face and shoulders.

      Though they burned, I did not move. I could withstand so much more.

      I saw him double back and bring his arms up over his face to protect himself from the blast and crackle of the steam and circuits.

      He flinched as his exposed arm burned.

      Up to that point, I had been wearing a hood. Black, it covered my face and body. Only my boots and arms were bare.

      The captain brought his gun up and shot at the conduit above me.

      There was an explosion this time. It slammed into me from above, ripping my cloak off my shoulders. It pushed me down onto one knee, the metal of the floor buckling underneath me. I jumped forward before I could fall through it.

      I flipped. Twisting in the air, I landed behind the captain and brought my blade forward.

      There was a moment just after I landed where he stared at me. Stumbling back, his eyes grew unmistakably wide. I saw the whites, saw the pupils all but shake with terror.

      Spacer, you’re a spacer, he choked out.

      The room was filling with dark, foul smoke from the exposed conduit. He leaned forward and spluttered into his hand, coughing heavily, his torso heaving as he did. But as soon as his fit was over, those startled eyes locked back onto me.

      What are you doing here? This is just a simple transport. There’s nothing here but cargo.

      My master would soon be done playing with this man.

      The captain kept shifting back, his movements jerky as he coughed and spluttered against the smoke.

      There’s nothing here for you, he repeated, desperate.

      But your death, I said.

      He shuddered. But he didn’t turn to run from my promise. His stare jerked over me, his pupils still shaking.

      I caught my reflection in the swinging panel of a service duct that had come loose from the ceiling above. My skin was covered in lines – channels of energy that would glow in the dark. Patterns that shifted like wind across sand. I wore white armor, and the channels from my skin tracked across it. Covering my eyes was a visor. Opaque to the captain, it offered no hindrance to my view.

      Just… just let them live. The captain ran out of corridor. His back slammed up against a door. It was half jammed open, but the space it left was too small for the man to fit through.

      He should have been like an animal trapped in the corner, except he did not lash out and neither did he crumple to his knees and shake in fear.

      He faced me.

      I brought my blade forward.

      I did not want to kill this man. I understood what he was doing. I understood his sacrifice. I knew how loathsome those mercenaries were. I knew the horror my master had in store for all.

      I had never wanted to kill anyone, but I could no longer count the number of times I had wielded my blade.

      Just before I brought it forward, his face slackened, not with surrender, but compassion. You don’t have to do this.

      My blade stopped.

      No, I stopped it.

      I had done this precious few times over the past 450 years – overridden my master’s orders.

      If I had not experienced it, I would not have been so sure that escape was possible, that one day I would finally be able to shrug off my shackles.

      He hadn’t sucked in a breath since my blade had stopped just against his chest. I was close to him, my arms ready to tense at any second and plunge my weapon through his torso.

      He looked into my eyes.

      I have no idea what he saw. At that moment the pain began. It stabbed into my mind.

      My master was trying to reassert his control.

      I had never lasted this long before. My other brushes with freedom had lasted for fractions of a second. Long enough to know it was possible, but nothing more.

      The captain, those darting pupils still locked on me, began to move. He shifted to the side, my blade scraping across his uniform and cutting it easily. Shimmying, he managed to squeeze past it.

      I heard him take several steps. Then he tapped something. Lock weapons onto my coordinates. Prepare to space this section – that’s an order.

      If the weapons of his cruiser obliterated this section of the transport, it would kill the captain instantly.

      It would not kill me. I would be lost in the rubble as I drifted out into space, but I would find a way back inside the ship. I would finish what I had started. He would be buying himself precious few minutes.

      Captain, you’re still there, we can’t— someone snapped over the captain’s wireless commline.

      That’s an order.

      My master still fought me. The bracelets I wore sunk into my skin like hands around my wrists, exerting their control, spreading their tendrils further into my body, sending their messages to my brain, trying to override my control to claim me again.

      Somehow I still fought.

      Then I felt the energy surging toward the ship.

      I moved back, brought up my blade, and slammed it forward. It created a shield. It spread, beautiful and blue, all around me and down into the corridor.

      The ship rocked back, the wall in front of my shield suddenly erupting in an enormous, bright blast.

      Sections of hull melted in seconds. Others tore free, ripping conduits, pipes, and panels out and sending them slamming away into the dark space beyond.

      My shield held.

      It hurt. Every bone, every muscle, every fiber of my being.

      I could only keep it up for seconds. It would tax my energy and shut me down.

      As it weakened me, my master struggled harder to gain hold.

      I lasted long enough for the captain of the Coalition Ship Zeus to fall back, run to the nearest airlift, and leave the level.

      Then I shut down. I succumbed.

      Blackness claimed me, but as it did, one thought settled in deeper than the rest.

      I had claimed many lives – fought many battles for a master who cared only for destruction.

      Yet that day, for the first time, I had fought back long enough to make a difference.

      I had saved that Coalition captain.

      It gave me the faith I so desperately needed to believe that one day I could save myself.

      Chapter 1

      Five years later

      The sun shone through the plate-glass windows of my apartment. I stood there, one hand resting on the glass as I stared out at the city beyond. With her tall spires, sleek buildings, and energy beams, she was beautiful.

      I stepped back and walked toward the table. Clutching up a portable holographic pad, I smiled as I entered the kitchen.

      It had been a little over four years since I had freed myself from captivity. As I placed my holo pad on the kitchen bench and headed over to the food synthesizer, I let out a satisfied sigh.

      Food had become one of my pleasures. Standing in grass, wet with dew, my toes curling against the cold and damp had become another one. Standing and staring at a view another again.

      After 450 years of serving my master, I was free.

      There were still days I couldn’t believe it. There were still nights where I spent hours on end staring down at my scarred wrists, tracing my fingers over the dents that had remained once my bracelets had been removed.

      Water, cold, a twist of lime, I spoke into the com panel of the food synthesizer as I placed a glass into the slot before me. In a second it was filled with what I had ordered.

      This is your 20-minute alarm, the holographic panel on the bench reminded me. You must leave for your appointment in approximately 4.5 minutes.

      I didn’t respond. I mulled over my drink as I turned to stare out at the view again.

      Four years. For four years I had wandered the galaxy. At first, the freedom had been intoxicating. To think and feel and move on my own was a dream I’d barely entertained during my incarceration. Now it was a reality.

      It had not been easy, though. To break free, I had faked my own death. My brothers and sisters thought I was dead, if indeed they still thought. Perhaps their souls had been crushed long ago.

      In order to prepare for your appointment, you must dress in your uniform. This will take approximately two minutes. It is suggested you begin now, the audio unit of my holo pad reminded me.

      Uniform.

      I glanced over at it. It was folded neatly on the table by the windows.

      I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

      I’d made my decision. I was joining the Coalition Forces. The same people I’d fought for hundreds of years. I could not even conceive of how many of them I’d killed, how many ships I’d destroyed, how much damage I’d done to them.

      It was time to repay the debt. But more than that, the Coalition was the only force I could think of who could take him on. Master.

      I could not do it alone. If I acted against him, he would realize I was still alive, and he would track me down and enslave me again.

      It left me with one choice. Join the Coalition Forces, become one of their recruits, and help them as best I could. I could not, however, ever risk letting them know who I really was and what I had been. If my secret was ever revealed, my master would come for me.

      You now have approximately 40 seconds to dress, my holo pad chirped.

      I reached for the uniform.

      I pulled it on as I stared out the windows.

      This would not be easy. I was about to embark on a journey that would take years, if not decades. If I really wanted to help the Coalition, it could not be done in a day. I would have to guide them in secret whenever the opportunity arose.

      I walked backward, still staring at the view. I assessed that beautiful cityscape until I identified a silver spire in the distance.

      The Earth Division of the Coalition Academy. In approximately 15 minutes, the initiation ceremony for new recruits would begin. I would be there.

      Chapter 2

      Alright, people, move off to your respective teams. Your year reps will come and show you your dorms. An officer waved us forward.

      I was standing in a group of new recruits. It was a different experience for me.

      They were chatting excitedly, talking amongst themselves, even giggling.

      I’d met Coalition recruits in battle before, and they had not babbled this much.

      I stood straight, arms behind my back, head held forward as I stared at the officer barking out his orders.

      Nobody else maintained such discipline. As a large human male walked past, he elbowed me in the face. Sorry, he mumbled as he walked off, another recruit at his side.

      Before I could react, I was jostled again, and then again.

      As a group, we all seemed to surge forward and through the massive doors before us. Despite the crowd pressing in on me, I took the opportunity to stare up at the building as we entered. It was so high, it seemed to go on forever from my vantage. Just a stretch of sleek silver metal and windows ending with a pointed white spire 50 floors above. It was one of the many buildings that made up Coalition Headquarters. It was a place I would be spending the next five or so years. The Coalition recruitment program was long and arduous – there was a lot to train for. Space was vast. And, as I could testify, full of enemies. For every race of explorers, you could find a race of warmongers ready to exploit the weak for their own gain.

      Which dorm are we heading to? Um, hello, does anyone know where new recruits assigned to Omega Team are meant to go? a young woman in the crowd called.

      People appeared to ignore her – everyone streaming off in different directions, heading to their respective dorms to begin their orientation.

      Ah, hello, are you in Team Omega? She latched onto the sleeve of a passing Tamarite.

      Team Beta, he snapped as he moved past.

      Oh god, I’m going to have to call my brother, aren’t I? she mumbled to herself as she screwed up her cheeks in apparent anguish.

      I watched with interest.

      Something the past 450 years had taught me was how to observe. I could stand in a room and stare at a wall for hours on end – I’d done it countless times before.

      This time, it was a mistake. As the crowd thinned, she made eye contact with me. In fact, it seemed as though she latched onto me with her eyes.

      She half ran up to me. Do you know where Team Omega is meant to meet?

      Second floor, just outside the engineering lecture hall. I turned to walk away.

      Okay… do you know where the engineering hall is?

      It has engineering written on the door, I replied.

      She began to blush, her neck dipping back. It appeared I had emotionally affected her. I’m sorry to be a pain, of course it does. I’m just not good with directions.

      I opened my mouth, ready to tell her that a lack of spatial awareness indicated she would be a poor recruit.

      Elle, what are you doing? You’re meant to be heading to your team, a man said as he walked up to us.

      We were now the only people left in the hall.

      I watched him as he approached. It took me a moment, but I recognized him. Jason Singh. Son of Admiral Singh. I had read his publically available file when I’d done my research on the Coalition Recruit Program. He was a decorated graduate, and he headed up an elite unit that operated under the watchful eye of Admiral Forest.

      Brother, I’m so glad you found me. I have no idea where I’m going. Elle, as I now knew she was called, flopped a hand over Jason’s arm and leaned into him.

      That was a lie – I had told her seconds before where she was meant to go.

      Damn it, Elle, I thought I already told you that this morning. I’ve walked you through these halls countless times. How have you forgotten already?

      I’m so nervous. She flapped at her face and winced.

      Alright, I’ll take you there, but we’ve got to hurry. I just found out your Team leader is Lieutenant Ma’tovan. And trust me, he isn’t going to like you being late. Jason suddenly turned to look at me. His brow dented up. What team are you? Are you lost too?

      Omega, I replied evenly. No, I am not lost. Your sister engaged me in conversation. With that, I turned, nodded at them, and proceeded to walk down the corridor.

      Follow us. I know a quicker route. Jason waved me forward as he turned sharply on his foot, his black regulation boots squeaking against the polished floor.

      I hesitated. I had already memorized the blueprints of the Coalition Academy compound. I doubted his way would be any quicker.

      I followed nonetheless.

      Oh my god, I’m so sorry for making you late. Elle turned to me as she jogged behind her brother. Her face was already flushed with exertion.

      I had seen Coalition officers run far quicker and for far longer without showing such signs of exhaustion.

      What’s your name, recruit? Jason dropped back, grabbing his sister’s arm to pull her quicker.

      I could have easily sped up and headed to the engineering lecture hall on my own. I knew the way, and Elle was holding me back. I doubted it would be a good idea to do so in front of Jason Singh, however.

      I knew I had to keep a low profile. During my training and into the years to come, I had to keep my head down. Elle was apparently the daughter of Admiral Singh, the very same Admiral who headed up the recruit program.

      Em, I replied easily. Though we were jogging, my voice was unaffected.

      I haven’t heard that name before. You human? he asked.

      No. As I jogged, my gaze darted around the corridor, noting every detail I could. It was part of my nature. I logged every fact I found. From the shape of the doors to the height of the windows, I made an internal map of every room we passed and every corridor we jogged through.

      You kind of look human, he noted as he ushered us up some stairs.

      I did. But in my case, looks were deceiving. I am Taskarian, I lied. I had already assessed that my bio scans were closest in resemblance to that race. There were differences, of course, but I knew how to mask them. I had spent the past two years tracking down a subcutaneous device that would make my biosignatures mimic that of a Taskarian. The device was apparently impossible to detect. Without it, I would never have been able to join the Coalition. With it, I had the opportunity to finish my training with the secret of who I was fully intact.

      Wow, we don’t get many of your kind joining the Academy. Why did you join?

      To bring down an ancient master who had enslaved the last of my kind to wage a never-ending battle with anyone who disputed him.

      I, of course, did not share this with Jason. I looked ahead, noted that the engineering hall was right before us, and nodded toward it. It appears our team has already left.

      Oh great, Jason sighed, his breathing still relatively unaffected by his pace. His sister, however, had already fallen behind. Come on, Elle, we’ve got to find out where they’ve gone. Knowing Ma’tovan, he’s probably taken everyone straight to the training ground.

      Oh no… how far away is that? We’re going to be in trouble, aren’t we?

      I’ll take you there— Jason began but was interrupted by the soft chime of the device he wore on his wrist.

      It was a personal computer. It acted as a communication device and a scanner. It also monitored bio readings and could be used as an intrastella beacon in cases of distress. I had not received my own yet. When I did, I would be unsure how long it would take to convince myself to put it on my wrist.

      It would feel too much like my shackles had.

      Singh, report to the armory. We’re running a test on the new matter disruptor rifles, a voice emanated from Jason’s wrist device. On the double.

      Yes, sir, Jason replied.

      I watched as his smile dented. He looked at his sister and shrugged expressively. You are going to have to get there on your own. Now, the training ground is—

      Approximately 500 meters from the second dormitory block, I interjected, pointing in the correct direction, despite the fact we were inside and there were no windows around us.

      Yeah, yeah, it is. Damn, I’m glad you know where you’re going. Can you take her there? Jason smiled hopefully.

      I looked at him, blinking, then nodded.

      This was not how I had expected my first day as a recruit would go. Though I had understood I would not be doing anything to fight my master straight away, shepherding admiral’s daughters had not been on the agenda.

      Okay, I’ll come see you as soon as I can. Jason backed off, turning at the last moment. Just try to stay out of trouble. Oh, by the way, I’m Jason Singh – forgot to introduce myself. He waved at me.

      I know who you are. I nodded at his sister, informed her to follow me, and ran at a pace she could handle down the corridor.

      If I had not been with her, and I had known the coast was clear, I would have done a subspace jump. To do one, I simply had to open a subspace pocket, jump inside, and then reopen the pocket wherever I needed to be.

      The move had a limited range – I could usually only travel within 50 meters of where I was standing, more if I had a visual lock on where I needed to be.

      It was one of the only abilities still available to me, one of the few that was virtually undetectable. I could not, however, hope to pluck up my energy blade and start swinging it around – it had a unique signature that could be easily detected. If it was detected, he would find me.

      Oh my god, I’m really, really sorry for making you late, Elle puffed through a shaking breath.

      You have already said this.

      I’ll let Lieutenant Ma’tovan know this wasn’t your fault. Hopefully, he’ll only punish me.

      Save your breath – run faster, I commanded.

      She did not heed me.

      She continued to talk to me. I believe the humans called it chatting. It was inane. She talked about everything from the weather to who her bunkmate would be. She told me her mother was an admiral – recently promoted from captain – and that she really didn’t want to let her down. She told me her father was a biophysicist who was working on organic matter transportation. She also told me she wanted to specialize and become a doctor.

      I refrained from pointing out that medical professionals were usually less flustered. In fact, I refrained from talking full stop. She provided all the chatter – I simply listened.

      Wow, you are hardly out of breath. How fit are you? She stumbled at my side as she spoke, knocking into me on several occasions.

      I could finally see the training ground ahead. I saw a large crowd, and as we neared, I recognized several of the recruits from Team Omega.

      You’re not even sweating. Do Taskarians sweat?

      Taskarians sweat. I suggest we sprint – our group is just ahead of us. We can make it in under 30 seconds if we increase our speed by a factor of 2.5.

      Once again she ignored me. Rather than increasing her speed, she practically ground to a halt. Collapsing her hands on her knees, she heaved in breath after breath. My brother told me there would be a lot of running about in the training program, but I didn’t think it would start so soon.

      I looked from her to the training ground. I knew enough about Coalition discipline to understand that we would both be punished for arriving late to orientation. We would also become known.

      I could easily have left her behind. I hesitated, turning on the ball of my foot to calculate the advantage. I would be punished less, surely, if I arrived sooner. However, it would involve leaving the admiral’s daughter behind.

      She looked up at me with a pleading face.

      I recognized that look. I had seen it many times before. I had never been able to do anything about it, though.

      I reached out a hand, grabbed her shoulder and hauled her forward. I could have carried her, but it would have brought even more attention.

      We are almost there, I assured her.

      What was I doing? What was the point of pulling this human forward? It was clear she was not suited to becoming a recruit. In helping her, I could compromise my own, far greater plan. I did not need to be reprimanded so early in the game – I knew that with enough official reprimands, you would be expelled from the Academy.

      Still, I hauled her forward until we reached the training ground. I had hoped we could merge with the back of the group without anyone noticing, but I quickly saw the man in the lead turn to face us.

      He was a Ravang, a warrior-like race renowned for their physical strength and resilience. They were also renowned for their inability to forgive.

      Ravang were huge, and Ma’tovan was no different. At eight-foot tall, he towered over most of the other races in the crowd. He had broad, bulging shoulders, and thick black skin punctuated by skeletal ridges. His piercing yellow eyes seemed to glow all the more in contrast to his dark skin.

      Our two remaining recruits, he spat. Finally, you have joined us.

      It’s my fault, Elle began.

      I kept my hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. It was an easy move, and she spluttered as she nearly lost her balance.

      She was no doubt about to tell him her excuse. A Ravang would consider an excuse nothing but an insult.

      We acknowledge we are late. We are prepared to be disciplined, I remarked.

      That was it. I didn’t claim innocence. I did not choose to distance myself from Elle. I stood there and maintained eye contact, not with the Ravang, but at a point just under his left elbow.

      He snorted. You will not be disciplined. Yet, his voice rang on the word yet, but you have just volunteered.

      Oh god, Elle groaned from behind me.

      She said that phrase too much.

      Before I could point that out, Ma’tovan pointed us toward the track at the center of the training ground. It looped around in a circle, and the turf was made of a yellow gel-like substance that I knew could differ in the resistance it gave. Should you fall, it turned soft. Should you run, it turned into rock. This is your first day. This is your orientation. Ma’tovan’s rigid mouth moved around his words. His voice was guttural and deep. I will now orient you to the most important fact in the life of a recruit. Danger. If you wish to succeed in your training, you must face it. The Coalition fights many battles. We are under constant threat. No mission is ever safe.

      I was sure not to make eye contact as I walked toward the track. I did, however, let my eyebrow raise a notch.

      The Coalition did many other things. It did not just fight battles. It studied and protected the cultural heritage of countless systems. It explored, it invented, and yes, it protected. Within the Forces was a security division, yes, but not every recruit would be destined to join it. We would all go through the same undergraduate training program for two years until we specialized.

      There are races out there that have sworn to destroy us. Forces you will come up against. From Barbarians to Kore assassins to spacers, this galaxy is not safe, he continued.

      I did not flinch. Not on the outside anyway. At the mention of spacers, a wave of cold pushed through my chest. The memories returned in a flood, but they did not drown me.

      It was why I was here.

      I couldn’t forget that.

      Spacers, a recruit beside me sniggered. They are a myth.

      A mistake. Though the recruit was probably sure he was out of earshot, he was apparently unfamiliar with the auditory acuity of a Ravang.

      I have faced one, Ma’tovan’s voice dipped low. It was not a gentle move – it felt like he was getting ready to pounce. And I have faced no myth. This galaxy is full of danger, and if you wish to succeed in this program, you must show me you can handle it. If you are not capable, you will only be a liability. I will assess you all over the next five years. If at any point I believe you are unfit, you will be cut from the program.

      I was aware of Elle as she trembled beside me.

      She would be cut from the program – it was the only reasonable conclusion. She clearly had never faced danger, and she clearly was not capable of doing so now. Currently, the prospect of being late to class seemed enough to turn her into a trembling mess.

      I straightened up, hooked my arms behind my back as I had seen many Coalition Academy recruits do before, and I did not shift my gaze from Ma’tovan’s shoulder.

      He turned back to Elle and me. His stiff lips crinkled up into a sneer. You will run around this track until you are exhausted and you fall. A Coalition crewman will face exhaustion. If you cannot handle it, you will be cut from the program.

      Oh my god, he can’t do— Elle began from behind me.

      I shifted in front of her and cleared my throat loudly, drowning out the rest of her sentence.

      Ma’tovan’s nostrils flared. Recruit, do you question my orders?

      Exhaustion training is a standard element of the recruit program, I interrupted before Elle could answer.

      Why was I still protecting her?

      I knew she would be cut from the program, and I thought that would be for the best. She clearly was not capable of performing at the level required. Though I disagreed with Ma’tovan’s methods, I personally understood how dangerous it could be out there in the galaxy. I understood, because I had been responsible for making it that way.

      Correct, now engage in it. You will run around this track until you drop. You will be given no water and no food. You will start now.

      I turned from him, nodded low in a standard salute, and began to run. Elle stood there, eyes wide.

      She was clearly horrified. She would also clearly not last long.

      Physically weak and mentally unprepared, I estimated she would only

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