Chapter 18

  The trip to the top of the station was much easier in a lift tube, I had to say, though it really impressed upon me the massive size of the station. I didn’t recognize any of the levels we passed even though we’d started from near the ‘bottom’ floor. The place had just been the scene of a firefight, and things looked pristine. Then, I realized why. We were in a different cylinder. Similar but different. The one I’d been in had a layered greenhouse feel to it, while this one used a lot of moving water and stonework. I’d never passed any of those while being shot at.

  I snuck a look at the other person in the lift, Dean Yisu. She was staring straight ahead, eyes scanning all she saw with her chin slightly raised like a queen surveying her domain. Her red dress was made out of the cleanest, most expensive looking material I’d ever seen. I don’t know exactly how I knew the material was expensive, but it just had that look, like it didn’t belong in any places I’d ever been.

  Meanwhile, I was a wreck. My clothes were shredded rags, fouled with blood and char marks from multiple heat type wounds. My hair was stiff and matted to my head, and I was missing a shoe. I didn’t remember how I lost the shoe or when, but I’d noticed the absence while we left the Marshals’ little hideaway. Now, I was stuck between walking crookedly with just one shoe or taking off the other one… I wasn’t sure what made me look more out of place.

  I cleared my throat once, thinking about making conversation, but the Dean shook her head to signal that I should wait.

  We got out of the lift on a deck where I could see the ceiling, finally. In fact we were near the top, just about a dozen levels down. Dean Yisu bid me follow her and took me on a path that led between white stone sculptures of warrior type folks in various poses, some slaying monsters I’d not encountered before, others fighting one another. Over all of them was a massive tapestry of stars, not the real ones just outside, but painted on the domed ceiling against a backdrop of dark blue. There was text there too, next to certain constellations, but it was too small for me to read.

  Then we swept into a grand office, a spacious room big enough to live in with towering ceilings and lots of waving flags and streamers hanging from the rafters. A single, ornate desk sat with its back to a panel of dayglow lights and a pastoral scene of rolling hills with a city just peaking over the horizon. The Dean took a seat in the high backed chair and swivelled to face me, bidding I do the same in one of the smaller chairs in front of the desk.

  I looked down at the chair and at myself. Just brushing up against the fabric of the cushion would probably cost some cleaning staff an afternoon.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I think I should stand,” I proposed.

  “Very well,” the Dean replied, but then she said no more, choosing to stare at me enigmatically instead.

  I cleared my throat and did my best impression of a guy that wasn’t entirely out of place.

  “Uh- I want to thank you for saving me on such short notice,” I ventured. “I’m sure you’re busy and all that.”

  “Hm.” Yisu made a noncommittal noise.

  Splendid. I would have to carry this conversation myself. I was just great at that.

  “My friend, Isea… the man that brought you the message. Is he okay?” I pressed.

  The Dean leaned forward and put her elbows on her desk, fingers steepled in front of her nose. There was a long pause.

  “Yes,” she finally answered. “Once data deconfliction was complete, we gave your friend compensation commensurate with the task he performed, healers tended to his injuries, and then we escorted him back to the native side of the station. He seemed rather pleased with how things turned out.”

  “Thank you,” I sighed, allowing myself to relax a bit more. “Wait. So, his arm… his… everything? Fixed?”

  Yisu tilted her head ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow as if I’d just said something mildly insulting. “Pristine. We employ some of the finest healers to be found in this part of the multiverse. The boy left healthier than when he came in.”

  I nodded in gratitude. Isea was going to be okay, and not just from the beating he took at the Devil’s Due. He was getting his arm back. “Thanks again,” I said.

  “No thanks are necessary. We do right by those that do us service, whether they be Chosen or not.”

  The mention of those in service of the Academy sparked a thought. “Um. Sorry for all the questions, but… What about the Marshals? The security guards I- uh- encountered. Are they-”

  “They are recovering,” the Dean assured me.

  “Right. Sorry. To clarify: I didn’t- Uh-” The words stuck in my throat.

  “Kill anyone?” The Dean asked.

  “Yes. Right.” Thadeus Marshal had mentioned it before, but I wanted to make doubly sure. I’d left quite a few of them in a bad way.

  “Our records show that no one died by your hand, though a significant portion of deck eight is missing, and a non-trivial amount of MP was spent to relieve the worst of their injuries. Additionally, much of Silo 1 needs to be refurbished.”

  Deck eight. Missing. Well I wouldn’t have said it was missing. More that it was turned into cannon spiders and made to cripple anyone that got in a certain Exotic’s way.

  “Sorry for the trouble.” Was all I could think to say.

  “Stop apologizing.”

  “Okay,” I said, still searching my feeble social skills for a lifeline. “Uh- So, what happens now?”

  “There it is,” the Dean sighed the words like she had been holding her breath. “Finally, you touch on the subject of yourself. You started with me, attempting to cater to my ego. Then you asked about your friend, his health. Then you asked about those who tried to hurt you. Now, finally, we can talk about you. Most Chosen would have skipped directly to this subject, Ryan Kotes, because it is the most pressing.”

  “Oh. Sor-”

  “Don’t.”

  I shut my mouth before I could apologize again. Maybe I did do it too much.

  “It is not a bad thing,” the Dean continued. “I am not chiding you, but I am, in a way, judging you. I like to know the character of the students I must accommodate at this Academy. The data packet that Mr. White sent to us contained some information about where you come from. Am I to assume that, because you are a Rogue Chosen, you are only familiar with our world based on what your benefactor has taught you?”

  “Um. I wouldn’t go that far. I’m really not well-versed on anything as far as Exotic life. I haven’t really had a chance to slow down and learn about that kind of thing yet.”

  She leaned back in her chair and favored me with a hint of a smile. “A free lesson then: You are not an Exotic, not as long as you are here. You are Chosen. You were either Chosen by birth or you were Chosen by the System, but you are Chosen. Though both terms are used interchangeably in Colonial Space, your choice of words will single you out, and, believe me, Mr. Kotes, you do not want to be singled out at this school unless you are well and truly a cut above.”

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  She was right, though I was sure I had a few behavioral ticks that singled me out as a Rogue. Why that was a bad thing, I only had my brain half-way wrapped around. Probably some elitism paired with… well, more elitism. “I understand,” I said with a nod.

  “Do you really?” She wondered, looking me up and down. “Mr. Kotes, the students at this school have been training from birth to be allowed the privilege of attending. They have had all of the resources, all of the tutelage, all of the harsh lessons of the multiverse drilled into their heads and reinforced time and time again for years before they even stepped foot on this station. They live, breathe, and eat combat, not just because of their classes but because they have known nothing else. Needless to say, this does not produce the most agreeable of student bodies. If you show weakness among their number they will tear you apart.”

  I swallowed. “Uh. So, would this be a bad time to tell you I have a non-combat class?”

  There was a slight furrowing of the Dean’s eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?” She whispered.

  “I’m not a combat class.”

  “Did I read a different student’s recommendation from Mr. White? He describes a formidable young man,” she demanded.

  I could only shrug. “I had an interesting tutorial.”

  “Level?”

  “Three.”

  “Three.” She repeated flatly.

  “Three.”

  There was a long pause where the Dean simply stared at me, her sharp gaze making me feel very small and even less dressed than I currently was. There was curiosity there, anger, and a bit of concern, all warring for top position. Then she seemed to come to a decision, tension leaving her face and her shoulders as well.

  “If not for the word of my friend and colleague, I might have had you spaced for wasting my time just now,” she confessed. I believed every word.

  “Mr. White believes you belong here, and, though his means are sometimes questionable, his ends are always just. I must ask, though: Is there anything you’d like to tell me that would allay some of my suspicions that this is an elaborate prank?”

  “I’m not sure how to answer that,” I answered honestly. I wasn’t about to tell anyone that I spent some time as a demon or that I had a unique class, at least not until I knew I could trust them.

  Dean Yisu sighed again. “Very well. I supposed that we will play White’s game together, you and I. To that end, let us focus on keeping you alive. Normally, I would just admit you, and that would be that. Unfortunately, I was unable to convince Thadeus to call off his Audit.”

  “I was wondering about that,” I said. “I guessed that the Audit was a play, but what does it gain the Marshals?”

  “I have been wondering the very same thing… until I met you, that is. The Marshal Family has expended a great deal of their reputation trying to keep you from enrolling in this Academy. You have something they want, I take it.”

  “I guess? They want to stick me in a cell and experiment on me.”

  “And what is the reason for that?”

  “I- I’m not sure I should say. Mr. White himself told me that knowledge of it would get me into more trouble.”

  The Dean narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. “Something personal enough to keep from the only person on this station that can help you?”

  I weighed her words, unable to meet the woman’s eyes as I did. Yisu was formidable and seemingly on my side… or White’s side, but White’s words were something along the lines of ‘feeding frenzy’ when the Families found me out. If I told the Dean my secret now and made her my sole confidant on the entire station, that would give her power over me, maybe even tempt her to spirit me away and do exactly what the Marshals were trying to do too.

  “My situation is unique,” I said carefully. “I have good stats, weird mana, and some Abilities that made the Marshals willing to bend the law to keep me even against my will.”

  The Dean’s lips formed a tight line, while her gaze was sharp enough to cut glass. “Well, if you believe obfuscation is the best course for you… I only hope you are more forthcoming to your instructors, so that they may help you. As for the Marshal Family, you must have something they want, and they are willing to risk their relatively new position of honor to get it, a position they have fought hard to acquire over a century. They’ve always been an ambitious group, but I’ve never seen them like this.”

  “So, since the Audit is still on, what does that mean?”

  “You have to fight for your place in our next class. Your recommendation from Mr. White might have gotten you in the door any other time, but Thadeus has bypassed that process in hopes of extraditing you back to your homeworld. For all the man’s flaws, it was an excellent move if he really believed the prize to be worth the cost.”

  “So, I have to fight like those poor guys on the holos?” I asked.

  “Those are students, Mr. Kotes, and they are humanity’s future champions,” the Dean corrected.

  “Right. But I have to fight them,” I repeated

  “Only other first years but yes.”

  “With weapons?” I asked, a bit of optimism leaking into my tone.

  Dean Yisu nodded.

  “Oh, good.” With that, I found myself grinning. I wouldn’t say the weight that had been on my shoulders was gone, but I could now imagine a scenario where I could put it down for a while.

  “You’re taking this rather well for a non-combat class, Mr. Kotes,” Yisu observed.

  “I’m a problem solver, and this is a familiar problem.” Weapons and fighting I could do. It’s all I’d been able to do since I became an Exotic.

  The Dean paused again, drumming her fingers on her desk. “Judging by how popular the healers were last night, perhaps you’re capable of backing up those words. I don’t know if I should feel relieved or if I should prepare to live in interesting times.”

  I smiled as complicated memories threatened to surface in my mind. “Cursed to live in interesting times. That’s the story of my life so far.”

  The Dean nodded then held up her hand with a few fingers raised. “Three fights. Win those, and you will be one of us with all the privileges and protections I can afford. Lose, and it will come down to judgement from the faculty, of which Thadeus is a member. Luckily, the incoming class is slated to go last, at Thadeus’ insistence, part of his ploy to isolate you. This may turn out to be a boon, however. It gives you some time to prepare for what I assure you will be a difficult climb. The problem is that I am not allowed to house you, train you, or provide you with resources. You are not a student here yet, and all materials given to us by the Families are to be used for the betterment of students.”

  I rubbed my chin as I set up the board with this new information. No help. No home. “That’s going to make preparing for anything harder. I’m going to need space and privacy. That’ll be rough on a space station especially when security is out to get me.”

  “Indeed. The Marshals have put you in a difficult position, one you must overcome. First, the immediate. You need Levels Mr. Kotes, in your Class, your Abilities, and your Skills. No matter how capable you believe yourself now, you must assume your opponents will have surpassed that when they were still in grade school. A Level 10 that achieved their rank with years of slaying vermin is a far cry from one with personalized tutors and guides to prime achievements.”

  “Right,” I agreed. “I understand that. Quality over quantity.”

  So far, the achievements I’d received were pretty much products of what happened to me at that level as opposed to something I reached for. If these people had all the money in the world and a whole Family backing them, I imagined they could double, even triple the stat gains and bonuses an everyday Exotic like myself could get from each level.

  The Dean took out a writing pad and a pen, actual paper and ink, the first I’d seen in person anywhere outside of Ralqir. Then she started to scribble in the lines in surprisingly messy handwriting.

  “I have a man in the lower decks you should talk to if you require combat experience. It’s dangerous and difficult work, but it should put you in an environment with the greatest potential for gains in your combat adjacent Skills. Focus on defensive skills first but don’t disregard the others. Make choices that give you more survivability and perhaps your… unique aspects will carry you the rest of the way. Experience gain is entirely up to you.”

  “Thank you, Dean,” I said before catching up to the rest. “The lower decks? Like the other side of the station?”

  “Yes, I thought it best you not stay here, since that would give the Marshals further opportunities to make your life more difficult. Then there is the price. I assume you do not have funds.”

  I shrugged. I did, sort of, but the Marshals were enough of a reason to not stay in Brightside.

  Dean Yisu waved her hand dismissively. “Either way, the lower decks should provide some respite and privacy from the people that mean you the most harm. You can secure lodging down there easily enough with your pay.”

  I took the slip of paper from her outstretched hand and squinted at the characters, confused. The woman should have been a Doctor.

  “My pay?” I asked.

  “The name at the top is Lt. Colonel Machik. He coordinates the Diving teams.”

  “I thought the locals weren’t keen on… Chosen,” I said, only hesitating slightly before using the Dean’s preferred term.

  “They’re not, but Machik will find a place for you, regardless. I suggest you use your training time well, Mr. Kotes,” Yisu urged. “Everyone else is already doing so. I will send word of your first fight soon.”

  Hey. Thanks for giving In my Defense a chance. New chapters will be posted Tuesdays and Thursdays, eventually ramping up depending on the amount of interest we can generate here.

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