No Survivors

Chapter Three

It had taken him some time to adjust to the colour of the sky here on Heart, the vast expanse of greenish-blue; more jade than cerulean. So unfamiliar, stretching overhead as far as the eye could see and always reminding him he was where he did not belong. He preferred it at dawn or at dusk when the sun was low on the horizon and the moons were shining. Then the alien sky was shot through with hues of pink and purple, softer and calmer, then he could look at the sky and pretend he was home. Though no matter where he was, or imagined he was, he knew he didn't belong. Standing underneath the glittering emerald sky with the yellow sunlight streaming down on him he sent out a silent wish to the universe, that he might somehow find a place for himself, somewhere where he might actually belong.

"Something interesting up there Cadet? More interesting than the laps you're supposed to be running?"

"No," He grumbled, "Sir." He tacked on the title as an afterthought.

They liked titles here, forgetting to use them was a sign of disrespect. The commanding officer was straining his neck in an effort to glare up at him and he was again reminded how strange this place was. Small stature didn't matter here, the small could be strong and demand respect.

"Then get those tree trunks you call legs moving." His superior ordered.

He was considered large here, and that had been another thing to get used to. He was just as mocked as he had been in his homeland, but for the opposite reasons. Too small for his mother's people, too big for his father's people. Chitonians ostracized his mother, barely able to stomach her dalliance with his father until that union bore a 'half-breed'. They only bothered with him when they were making sport of reminding him how far beneath them he was. Humans weren't any kinder. They would push themselves to the breaking point to develop the kind of muscles he had, and they were respected and feared for it. Somehow, the fact he was naturally big and strong was something for him to be looked down on for. They took one look at him and sneered, deciding he was unworthy of the power he possessed, even though he had never used his size to bully anyone smaller. They would always think they were better than him, so he had to do better than they did. He would use his size to protect the littler ones, even as they mocked him. Maybe that way he could be proud of himself, because nobody else would be proud.

A shrill whistle sliced through the air, piercing his ear drums. As one, his fellow Cadets slowed to a halt and turned to see where the noise had come from. Two women stood above them, looking out from a balcony a floor. He thought one was bleeding at first, the sunlight glinting off her head and lighting her blood red hair like a beacon. The other stood impassively by her side, watching his class with sharp eyes, and he wondered if the Captains coat slung over her shoulders was making her boil in the sun. The bloodhair held up a tablet to her companion who ignored it in favour of fumbling around her pockets for a flask, taking a hearty swig from it before jumping up to balance on the obsidian marble railing of the balcony. She let the cadets all finish thumping their chests and showing her due respect before she spoke, her voice carrying easily on the slight breeze though she didn't speak loudly.

"Cadets. As you well know, you have months of training left before you'll receive your first positions within the ranks of the Empire. Before that happens, I am in need of a corporal for my new crew. Who thinks they are ready for such an assignment?"

It was an unusual offer, to skip ahead of the order and be ranked before they had even finished training, but it was a tempting one. All of the cadets eagerly stepped forward, himself included. The Captain smirked and clucked her tongue, like she found their eagerness amusing.

"Really? There are 44 of you, 36% of new recruits die in the first five years. That leaves 28 of you. A further 47% of you will die in the next ten years, that leaves 13. The remaining 13 of you have a 98% chance of dying before serving more than thirty years. So best case scenario, only one of you will survive to advance beyond rank of corporal," She informed them, rattling off the numbers coldly, unaffected by the apparent death toll.