Chapter 9
Axira
I found myself standing before Lieutenant Ma’tovan.
Considering what I’d just done in that alleyway – how I’d fought off two Kore assassins essentially on my own – I shouldn’t be standing here. I should no longer be on Earth, in fact. I should have taken the first transport to get away. To get away from the rumors that were about to spread about me.
Instead, I was standing here, with my hands behind my back, considering a patch of wood on his desk.
“What did it feel like?” He asked staring at me directly. “To make a difference? Jason Singh may be one hell of a lieutenant, but if you hadn’t been there, Cadet, he wouldn’t have lived through that. So what did it feel like to be the difference? The difference between someone living and someone dying?”
The lieutenant already knew all about what had happened in the city. Heck, all the upper brass did, and soon enough, the rumor would probably spread through the cadets. Though I fancied the teachers would try hard to keep on top off it.
The fact a Kore Empire intelligence team had been kilometers from the Academy headquarters, undetected, and clearly running some kind of mission was not one the top brass would like to spread.
I considered his question.
Because that question was the only reason I was still standing here.
How did it feel to have made a difference?
Right. It felt right.
“It felt good, didn’t?” He answered his own question.
I nodded.
“You helped protect the Academy tonight, Cadet. Something none of the other recruits will do until they graduate. You saved Lieutenant Singh, heck, it sounds as if you saved that section of the city too. I probably don’t need to tell you, but if those assassins hadn’t been rumbled, they could have gone on to destroy a good section of the city before self-destructing.”
I kept staring at that same section of wood.
“You’re questioning why you’re still here, aren’t you?” He asked perceptively. “You’re still here because you can’t run away anymore.”
I looked up at him now.
“You have your first taste of what it feels like to protect, and it’s going to be like a drug. It will be the only thing that controls the demons in your mind,” his eyes blazed as he spoke.
I held his gaze. I shouldn’t have. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t drop it. He didn’t take it as an insult. He smiled, a section of his top lip crinkling into his slit-like nose. “You missed your combat class this morning, but let’s say tonight made up for that. Tomorrow,” he leaned forward, planting his large hands on his desk, “Your real training begins.”
I didn’t blink. Nor did I look away. “Real training?” I asked.
I was envisaging more combat training. Perhaps the stuff they reserved for the elite forces.
I was wrong.
“Tomorrow you begin learning how to control yourself.”
I couldn’t control the tension that spread across my features.
“That’s scaring you, isn’t it? Two Kore assassins can’t rattle you, but the prospect of learning to control yourself scares you senseless, doesn’t it?” He took a lot of pleasure in what he was saying.
I didn’t speak. Did I have to? My answer was etched in every worry line digging into my cheeks and brow.
“You will report to me in the morning. First thing.” He leaned back and crossed his arms.
That was clearly my invitation to leave.
I didn’t.
Something kept me riveted to the spot. A question slowly burning in my mind. A question that had been burning since my incident in combat training yesterday. Slowly I let my lips draw open. “Why are you doing this?”
“I thought I made that clear: to make you the best recruit I can. That’s my job.”
“No, why are you really doing this?”
“Because I can see right through you. I don’t know anything about your race, but I don’t need to. I had you pinned the second I saw you. Do you know much about my species?”
I nodded. I had fought countless Ravang over the centuries.
“We are warriors. Proud, disciplined, honorable. But we’re still warriors. Our inclinations will always be to fight. Now, we can either fight to kill or fight to protect. Over the history of my race, it was always the latter rather than the former. Ravangs were kidnapped by the Barbarians, by the Kore, by anyone willing to use our strength and speed for their own nefarious purposes. Even when we joined the Coalition, we were always used as soldiers. Because that’s what we’re made to do. And even in this Coalition,” he stabbed a finger at his desk, “The soundest, most just, most worthy group in the galaxy, there are still people who will use you. If you prove yourself to be a competent soldier, they will use you to fight their wars. Your hands will be asked to kill for them, while your mind and your morals will be shunted to the side. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming the Coalition. I understand this is a hard galaxy now, and we have to fight to live. But I know what it’s like to be a mindless soldier. And even in this Coalition there will be people who take advantage of that fact. Do you want to be a mindless soldier?” He suddenly questioned me.
I couldn’t answer. My mind was awash with memories. Memory after memory of killing, destruction, of serving master for 450 years.
I made no attempt to control the glazed, horrified expression crossing my face.
“I have a feeling you already know what it’s like.”
Again, I couldn’t answer. Which was answer enough.
“I have a feeling you don’t want a return to that dark place. I’ve been there too, and I know the only way to stop yourself from sliding back into that place is to learn the difference,” he suddenly rumbled, “Is to keep your head on your shoulders. But most of all is to protect. The culture of my race is steeped in the myth of a warrior. But the problem with warriors is they always need an enemy. Without one, they’ll do anything and follow anyone who will lead them to the next foe. But you need to get rid of the idea that you’re a warrior. You are a protector, a guardian. When you realize that, everything will change. You’ll stop looking for people to fight, and start looking for people to protect.”
I no longer had any idea how I appeared. I’d lost all ability to feel my expression, to even feel how stiff and rigid my body was as I stood there in front of him and I concentrated on his words.
I could have subspace jumped at any time, gotten the hell out of here for good. But I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. His words were like the strongest force in the galaxy. It was like encountering magnetism for the first time; it locked me on the spot.
“Alright, Cadet, dismissed.”
I saluted, but it wasn’t as stiff and perfect as usual. I couldn’t control my body for some reason. With a stumble, I turned and walked off.
I caught a glimpse of the lieutenant’s expression in the shiny panel of the door.
He wasn’t staring at my back with hatred, even though that was the most common expression you’d see on a Ravang’s face. Rather he considered me with something that bordered on compassion.
That made me walk faster, in fact, once I hit the corridors, I ran. People had to dart out of my way, and I didn’t slow down until I reached it. Not my room, but the roof above. After checking there were no witnesses, I subspace jumped out onto the lip of concrete beyond the safety fence, and I let my legs fall out from underneath me. I sat heavily, crumbled my hands into my lap, and let my eyes close.
What was happening to me?
The Coalition Academy was meant to be easy. This was not easy. This was torture.
Yet I was still here.
I was enduring it.
And I would continue to endure it, I decided as I lifted my head and stared at the sparkling cityscape beyond.
Because tonight I had made a difference.
I brought my wrist up and considered my subspace scars.
I would continue to make a differe
nce, I suddenly decided with a firm determination that cascaded through my body, stiffening my posture and lifting my chin even further until I stared up at the stars above.
Jason Singh and the rest of the Academy would be unable to find out what the Kore assassins had been after.
Nothing could stop me.
They were spreading Academy secrets. I was going to find out what they were, and I was going to bring a stop to it.