Spectator

Chapter Two: Then

The shuttle approached the Academy. As the first space station built in orbit around Mars, it had been given the supercilious name of Harmonia. It wasn't quite defunct yet, but moving into the realm of outdated, so it had been turned into a school about twenty years ago. Esteemed, pinnacle of prestige, honoured, to hear Kali's mom tell it. Then again, Kali's mother had been a founding member, so that probably had something to do with it. General Vedha Jha-Neri was more proud of the Academy than her children, and it was probably only custom that had kept it from being named after her. So the Harmonia Academy for Gifted Youth was its eponymous title instead, though most of the seventeen year olds being shipped off to it just called it Harmonia High.

It didn't look like much. Kali didn't want to be scrambling for a look out the viewport, giving herself away as overeager. Those from the Mars Colony knew it was a downgrade to the domed cities of home, but to the Terrans, this chrome box would be considerably cleaner and better aerated. From the endless vids and reports that her mother made her study, Kali knew the look of the station by heart. It was built like a staff, long and cylindrical, with a bulky center that housed the generators, environmental systems, thrusters, hangar bays. The top section—dependent on which way one considered up with the rotations—was set aside for the dormitories, the class rooms, mess halls, showers. The bottom was for the Intense Education Exercises, which everyone just called the Games. All the levels dedicated to training drill after training drill, and the main consumer of the fusion core's power. Sure, theoreticals and in-class learning were a heavy part of the day, but everyone knew it was the Games that mattered.

That's what her brother, Yash, had told her anyway, and he knew better than most. He'd graduated six months ago, with flying colours. The perfect prodigal son. She was sure most of them assumed that Kali would be another carbon copy overachiever.

They couldn't be more wrong.

Docking was smooth, considering the pilot was one of the Harmonia students getting some practice in. They all filed out into the airlock as a nervous herd, though Kali noticed there were obvious clusters. She could tell which ones came from the Terran territories; their eyes were wide, filled with awe and wonder as they stepped onto plain chrome, their gray uniforms a little too new, too carefully taken care of. They tried to drink in the magic of new possibilities, warm and cordial to anyone who was welcoming.

The Marisians on the other hand, were just as easy to spot and for entirely different reasons. Uniforms were wrinkled - one boy had the upper half unzipped, showing his black undershirt and taut arms - he winked as he caught her looking, flipping silver hair. The rest weren't quite so jovial; they stood apart as if they were better, murmuring in detached tones, their arms and ears adorned in the latest technology. At least what they hadn't been forced to part with.

But regardless of where they came from and how highly they regarded themselves, they were all shoehorned into one unembellished room, stopping in front of a burly man. He was the epitome of what one might expect a grizzled military leader should look like: broad shoulders, hair buzzed nearly to the scalp, so many lines on his face that it was impossible to tell if they were wrinkles or scars. He had a square jaw, a thick moustache on top of a thin, unsmiling mouth. His eyes were a colourless gray, made smaller by how they were narrowed.

Yash had warned her about him - General Grouch.

"I am General McMillan," the man said, though it sounded more like a shout. His gravelly tone echoed against the metal walls, enough to make some wince. General Grouch definitely had a better ring to it. "And I command this station. Permission must be requested to enter."

An answer ensued, swifter from the Marisians, and more hastily echoed by the rest of the newcomers.

"Well you don't have it. Privilege, like respect or anything else here must be earned." Kali was pretty sure she saw spittle flying from his mouth. She tried not to snort - the speech was pretty much word for word what Yash had told her it would be - but her lips twitched, just as the General looked in her direction. Well. That wouldn't earn her any favours, but Kali was pretty sure he would just dislike her on principle.