Interstellar Academy by Kennedy Harkins (read books for money .TXT) 📕

She didn’t indulge me by commenting on that. “The students in this academy are some of the finest in the world.” She eyed me. “With a few exceptions.

The staff and I expect the best from each and every student. And when they have given us that, we expect the best of someone better, of the person they aspire to be. Our curriculum is known throughout the galaxy as one of the most challenging course loads in existence. The pace is fast, with years worth of learning crammed into a couple of months. Along with straight academics, we are a battle school. Every student is enrolled in battle and flying courses, all with heavy hands on training.”

She paused, probably to gauge if I was still listening. “It’s tough, and it takes more than hard work to make it here. Every year we have dozens of drop outs, kids who just can’t cut it. You will be one of those.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve reviewed your past accolades, grades, and curriculum. You’ve led a very pampered life on your parents’ curtails. But here, there are no last names, species, or races. You are judged purely by what you have inside of you.” She smiled again. “And I think we both know, on the inside, you don’t have what it takes.”

She looked at me, waiting for me to say anything, and I searched my empty brain for a sarcastic comeback I always kept handy. Nothing came. “You think I’ll drop out?” I asked in a small voice.

“In all likelihood, but as I’m sure your guardian has explained to you, you’ll be on thin ice here.” She elaborated after a moment of silence. “While I could not deny you entrance to the school, I do have the power to put you on academic probation. Which means that if you get into any trouble, or your grades inevitably slip, you’ll be off this ship so fast it’ll give you whiplash.”

I tried to smile. “Define “any” trouble.”

Her expression didn’t change. “One toe out of line, Miss Alkaev.”

She retrieved a piece of paper from the edge of her desk and pulled out a pen with a large feather, purple on the end of it. She began scribbling furiously, and after a moment, said, “That will be all, Miss Alkaev.”

I got to my feet in shock, not used to being dismissed. I ground my teeth and walked with stiff purpose back to the silver disk that was floating by the railed off hole. I climbed up on it. I was a little less cautious than I’d been the first time.

It started to rise into the air, getting ready to clear the railing. I turned back to Mrs. Earheart. “My name’s Astra.”

She glanced up for a brief moment, surprised that I was still there. Smiling, she said, “I won’t need to learn it.”

August 30th:

When the human left, I was almost tempted to stay, even with the Animarian there. I had the sickening feeling that I wasn’t going to get much time in the shared room without her in the coming months. I should’ve stuck around and soaked up the unhampered solitude. All it took to get me out of the building was picturing the look on my aunt’s face if I was late.

A few blocks later, I was still shuddering from the fright my imagination had given me. I passed a few fellow classmates on my way to the arena. But, even the hundreds of students, the town had the feel of privacy, something I revelled in after living in one of the most populated cities in the galaxy for all of my life.

The arena was one of the largest buildings at the Academy. It consisted of oval shaped walls that stretched half as high as the sky scraping apartments. It reminded me of a picture I’d once seen of the ancient, Roman Coliseum. It was completely revamped, made of the same indestructible materials of the arenas back on Tundris. It was wider than them, though, needing room for the housing of crafts for the students in flying classes along with battle.

Unlike most of the other teachers, Eidel Accia, my aunt, prefered to room in her office above the arena instead of in the faculty building. I’d never been, but after years of stories, I felt like I knew the path to that office like the back of my hand.

I took a tube, similar to the one in my apartment, and soared upward. I passed, flights upon flights of seating. Outsiders were allowed onto the ship on occasion to break up the air of seclusion. One of those occasions was sporting events, both student run and professionals using the field.

I stepped out of the tube and frowned. I’d be expected to enter, to win. But that wasn’t what I had in plan for my year, so I put it far from my mind for the time being.

As soon as I came to a stop in front of panel in the wall it slide up, and I stepped through the newly formed doorway. My aunt’s room was just as bare as my barracks back home. There were no personal effects, everything was spotless, and the furniture all looked uniform, probably bought in bulk by the school.

My aunt, hearing me arrive, entered the main room from the only other door in the place. It shut quickly behind her, not giving me a chance to see the contents. I guessed it was the same as what I had already seen.

“Drusus!” Eidel said in our native tongue. “You look practically of age.”

My aunt was tall and muscular like my mother, but much younger. She had dark skin, almost black and the same shade as Mae’s. Her white hair fell just below her ears and was sharp like a weapon. Her wings were the same as mine, leathery and dark, marking her a Kver. She had fewer Notatai than Mother, noticeably one that would have marked her as a veteran of the Galactic War. She had been too young to fight during it.

“Just a year away from it,” I said.

“You’re fifteen already? Great Agrona, I’m getting old.” She motioned for me to take a seat on a floor mat. She didn’t like plushy furniture, so this was her alternative.

She crossed her legs underneath herself. “How was the trip?”

I hesitated.  “A lot more...colorful than I could’ve imagined.”

“Ah, they have you rooming with a dreg from another planet, then?”

“Two.”

She laughed loudly, her whole body getting into it. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Chances are they’ll be gone within the week. The month for sure.”

Certainly, the human and the Animarian were unpleasant bunkmates, but they weren’t on the forefront of my mind just then. Getting them out of my rooms and off this ship would have to take a backseat to the Commander’s orders.

“Commander Rike contacted me on the shuttle over here.” The words shot out of me like rapid laser fire.

She grinned. “Trying to convince you to go back to the training center? Every year, Rike gets his feathers all ruffled that the Academy’s taking so many of his best recruits. Don’t worry about it, Drusus. When we give ‘em back, all shiny and competent, fresh off the chopping block, he’s ecstatic.”

“No, it wasn’t that.” I fixed the length of one of my sleeves, pulling it down to match the other. “He wanted a favor.”

She leaned back slightly. “I see. And you said?”

“I told him I’d help him.”

She nodded absently, staring at a spot right above my head. “Commander Rike in your debt.... Something like that could sky rocket a young man’s career.”

I shifted. “I know.”

Was she going to ask what the favor was? Should I tell her? On one hand, she was my aunt and a loyal Tundrian. I wanted to be able to trust her with anything. But she worked for the Academy, the place I’d been instructed to spy on. I couldn’t be sure how she’d react. If you don’t know the opponent’s next move, you’re better off not to engage him.

“Not to mention your mother’s.”

I snapped to attention. “My mother’s career? But she’s on the Tundrian council and in the UG. Why would she need any help in the military?”

My aunt pursed her lips. “I didn’t mean to say anything. Emeree wouldn’t want you to worry.”

I sat forward. “Why would I worry?”

She sighed. “Your mother’s footing in the military isn’t as...steady as it once was. True, she holds an important role politically, but since your father--may Fabius curse his soul-- left her, she’s lost some of her standing.” A pause. “Her subordinates and colleagues just don’t respect her as they once did.”

My innards shriveled into a cold, hard ball at the mention of my father. I could’ve forgiven him the abandonment, if that had been all he’d done. But I couldn’t forgive his betrayal of my mother, our family, and his species.

“That was years ago.”

“People remember things like that,” she said softly.

Eidel stood, the liquid, graceful movement of a trained warrior. She kept her wings loftily off the ground as she walked to the kitchen, an apparently effortless display of strength. “You want anything to eat?”

I followed her, far less elegant but with my own brand of power in my movements. “Yes, please. I didn’t want to eat any of the sludge they were serving on the way here.”

She chuckled. “Right. I almost forgot they serve all cuisines on the shuttle too. You’ll have to get used to it, kid. You’ll be eating all manner of Earth, Kalid, and Parvu ‘delicacies’ during your stay. Kalid’s the worst. They’re all tree huggers, no meat, not even fish, and everything’s so bland. Earthling food is so...over the top. By the end of the year you’ll be begging for just a simple plate of meat. Parvu’s dishes aren’t bad, just a little scientific for my tastes.”

I didn’t ask what she meant by scientific, or how food could be over the top. Wasn’t food just food? You ate it when your body needed it and stored it for later use when you were done. Trust the humans to mess up something as beautifully basic as that.

If I had to suffer bad food and bad company, there was no way I was going to make it.