Lodestar Academy

Defying gravity, guarding the galaxy- earn your wings at the Lodestar Academy.

Congratulations Conflagration signs.

Today marks your greatest achievement. Bear in mind that with every conquest, new obstacles arise. Luckily, the hardships of your past have shaped and prepared you for the trials you'll be confronted with on your new journey. That being said, brace for a self-discovery that will set those events into motion. You needn’t fret when facing these looming precarious challenges, as there is always one thing you can rely on during moments of obscurity; the fire you carry will never fail you.

I frown as I try to make sense of today’s Astrology forecasting. Or more accurately, today’s riddle.

I’ve reread the darn thing five times already. Considering today’s the day I’ll be stepping foot into Lodestar Academy, I was really hoping for something merrier. Instead, I’m given this grim message, hinting at some strange, ominous foreshadowing. Exactly what looming, precarious challenges do I need to worry about?

"Passengers aboard The Voyager, we are now easing out of hyperdrive and entering Metasphere's atmospheric orbit. For your safety, please remain in your seats with your straps fastened until we dock the transporter pod," an automated voice spiels over the intercom. Not long after it finishes, I feel the slight shift in air pressure within my cabin as we decelerate out of light-speed and into a comfortable coast.

Leaning forward, my heart quickens with anticipation as I gaze out the window at Metasphere - a planet headquarters to the Interplanetary Alliance, Metagalactic Military, Lodestar Academy, and Order Embassies.

I really try not to judge its appearance, but with all the hype surrounding it, I expected it to be more formidable.

As I stare at the dull, blueish-gray globe, something catches my eye on the other side, and I quickly adjust the window settings to zoom in on the intriguing object.

Now that’s something to fear, I think to myself as it focuses on one of the gigantic warships that patrols​​ the galaxy. Beyond it, I spot two more- albeit a safe distance away- with smaller ships​​ dotted along their sides. I bet there are more ships docked leisurely around here, their crews preparing for their next expedition, given that this is their home base.

As I scan the planet's surface, the automated voice returns, "We’ll now begin our decline to Station Zero. Again, please remain in your seats as we make our final descent."

My ears perk up as I hear the faint sounds of restless passengers and the hum of the engines. Their excitement is contagious, and I can feel my own pulse surge with the same fervor.

I grip the armrests as the planet rushes up to meet us, taking a last glimpse of the starry- universe that I've spent the last three months adventuring. Despite seeing nothing but the endless expanse of stars at all hours of the day, I never tire of it. In fact, I’m going to miss the view.

As we leave the void, the world below me provides a breathtaking view, with cities dotted across it and a vast expanse of ocean separating the continents. I gape in wonder. Every inch of land is covered with the sprawling civilization that is Metasphere, a tangle of technology and innovation. From my vantage point, I can even see the tip of the Zenith Mountain Range, where Lodestar Academy is secluded to train the next generation of fearless frontier aeronauts.

Finally, after months of traveling through several star systems, with brief stops on other planets to pick up passengers, The Voyager gracefully glides into port. The whole transport shakes as it docks, nearly jostling me out of my seat, and successfully jostling me out of my peaceful cocoon as three thousand excited passengers rush to disembark the vessel, whom I avoid fervently. They’ve already caused me enough grief these past few weeks by making a spectacle out of me. I'm ready to be done with it.

I probably could’ve blended in if it weren't for my pointy ears and bright peach-colored hair, marking me as Ravegeer.

'A peaceful Ravegeer heading to the war planet?' they had said to one another, stunned by my presence on board. Like seeing me was as odd as seeing a mythical creature.

I sigh, annoyance creeping over me at the truth of it. My kind have always maintained a reclusive lifestyle, deliberately avoiding the pandemonium associated with all the other Orders of the Intergalactic Alliance. That is, until I broke tradition.

I shrug it off, trying to keep my mood light, and wait for the ship to empty. Once I’m sure it’s clear, I heave my bulky bag over my shoulder, but as I amble down the aisle, I notice a female, about my age, still asleep in her cabin. For a second, I debate whether I should wake her.

The better side of me wins, and I drag my feet to where she slumbers, lightly tapping her arm. "You might want to wake up or you'll be heading straight back to where you came.”

Her eyelids flutter open, and I instantly peg her as an Alomilie when I notice her horizontal pupils cutting across her amber eyes. Before this journey, I never met an Alomilie in person. Now, there seems to be no shortage of them. That’s Metasphere for you.

"Who are you?" She asks through a yawn.

"Your alarm clock, apparently," I mumble, skimming the empty aisle leading to the exit.

Her head cants to the side as she squints at me. "Huh?” Seeming to understand, she sits up and looks around the empty craft. “Oh. Damn. Well, thanks for waking me while everyone else just left."

I press my lips together, deciding to keep to myself that I almost didn't wake her. "Uh-huh."

I don't wait for her as she scrambles to retrieve her bag from the storage bin, impatient to finally get off this hunk of metal.

As I take my first step off the ship onto the platform, my mouth falls open in awe, captivated by the sheer sight of the impeccable station. Everything, from floor to ceiling, is incredibly pristine and white, like something I'd see in a fancy home improvement magazine. I certainly wouldn't associate the design with a military planet.

The next thing to attract my gaze is the hundreds of species scuttling around the place, their steps purposeful as they weave past each other. There are over three hundred various Order members united under the Intergalactic Alliance, ranging in many colors, shapes, and sizes.

While aboard The Voyager, my encounters with other races were limited because of our transporter's route. But now, I'm gaining a profound understanding of the sheer magnitude of our universe.

It doesn't escape my attention that there’s a notable absence of Ravegeers among the crush. Several other people seem to notice it too, or rather, they notice the sudden inclusion of one.

People literally stop dead in their tracks when they see me, and I try my best to ignore their shocked and confused stares.

"Whoa."

I jolt at the voice and turn to my right to see the Alomilie female standing beside me, gaping at the station. Now that she’s not in a dim cabin, I can make out how ridiculously pretty she is. Her skin's smooth bronze. Her straight shoulder-length hair’s a rich brown, and standing at her full height, she's slightly taller than me. There’s also a small, albeit noticeable, scar on her left eyebrow that only serves to emphasize her overall intimidating charm.

"As impressive as this is, it's a little much, if you ask me. You'd think they'd use their money for more sensible purposes," she comments dryly, and the fact that she doesn’t mention the hundreds, if not thousands, of stares aimed my way allows me to relax. Somewhat.

A grin slips free. “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

We stay side by side, wordlessly following the signs directing us toward the shuttles. To my complete mortification, I cause a decent amount of collisions as people stop and stare, making it difficult for us to slip through the traffic unnoticed.

I breathe easier once we climb into a packed speeder, and it isn't until then do I realize that we're both heading towards Lodestar Academy. I expect her to say something, or separate from me, only she never does.

Since there aren't any available seats, we both grab hold of a metal pole above our heads, and I brace myself as the shuttle launches out of the station. I cringe at the piercing hiss of the hydraulics as they supply the engine with power, their muffled sound intensified by my enhanced hearing.

As we leave behind the bustling main space port, the world outside becomes a hazy blur. Only one thing stands out in crystal clarity - the majestic Zenith Summit.

It grows bigger and bigger as we get closer, towering over us like a dark monolith. Our speeder climbs up the treacherous winding mountain with ease, but after the second swerve, bile hits the back of my throat.

Don't you dare vomit.

Needing to distract myself from the overwhelming nausea, I try for conversation. "You know, if your goal is to stay under the radar on your first day, being seen with me will only get you noticed."

As if she hasn’t already realized that after all the traffic collisions back at the station.

A slow smile spreads across her face. "I was wondering when you'd say something." She peers at me with mild amusement. "I don't care what people think. And apparently, neither do you since you're a Ravegeer attending Lodestar Academy. This place is going to be ruthless our first few weeks, with people sabotaging each other for Senior recognition, contending for academic rankings, and playing dirty to gain social hierarchy. So I'd like to know at least one person in this hellhole that won't try to destroy me to put themselves ahead."

A groan slips free. I forgot about the brutal schemes that go on here, which the faculty encourages since 'no one should expect to be pampered when in war.'

“My sentiments, exactly,” she says, huffing.

I chew my lip, taking a moment to remember what I heard about the daunting culling process that all new students have to endure. The Trials of Initiaion.

As arcane as this place is, even those outside the Alliance are familiar with it.

I've been warned countless times that the school is ruthless, and test initiates to the core, weeding out the weak to make room for the strong. While those who shared this information intended to scare me, it made me more determined to prove to everyone that they shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss me as weak.

Looking around the shuttle, I notice that everyone seems to have already formed little clicks, preparing themselves for what's to come. I consider my own strategy for surviving. Being alone means no one will stab me in the back. But I know that won't earn me any brownie points. “Why bother forming groups if we can’t trust anyone, then?”

She shrugs. “We don’t really have a choice. The faculty wants to see our teamwork, since we'll eventually be fighting alongside each other in open space.”

I give her an incredulous look. “But they want us to quarrel with each other, too?” She nods. I sigh. “Their contradictions make no sense to me.”

With a low chuckle, she says, “They say it's for the bigger picture, that these challenges are meant to give the staff insight into our character and survival strategies or whatever.”

Well, great. My Order automatically eliminates me as a candidate in any social pacts since no one wants a ‘delicate’ Ravegeer in their group.

So then… why is this stranger choosing to affiliate with me? To use me? For what purpose? There’s no way I’d increase her social status. Maybe I'm over-thinking things, and it's as she said, she just wants someone to trust. Can't say I blame her.

"I'm Nira, by the way."

Her smile grows. "I know. I heard a lot about you on our trip over here. I decided to do some investigating and looked you up." She gives a low whistle. "You worked hard to earn a place. Your academics are outstanding- best I've ever seen. Most people don't take extracurricular classes and I lost count of all yours."

I scowl at the reminder of the unfair favoritism the Pannel has for those entering the Academy. It's a constant battle against a system that's designed to keep people like me out. "Yeah, well, I had to for even a slight chance of being considered."

She nods in understanding. Her empathy's a stark contrast to the ridicule I've grown accustomed to. I don't know what to do with it. Lucky for me, her edges are as rough as mine, and she mirrors my grudging tone, "I figured. Bunch of pricks. Oh, and my name's Zyth."

A commotion of murmurs interrupts our conversation, and we look outside to discover that we've arrived.

I’m glued to the window in wonder and awe as the speeder slows to a crawl. The Academy’s strange architecture, which is unlike the rest of the planet's advanced establishments, has me gawking. It looks ancient, and memories of the stories my parents used to tell me about my home planet before its collapse flooded my mind.

Our people chose to never update or reform their timeworn structures, for they had a special link to our planet that they never wanted to disrupt. My mom told me our people had Empires, not Capitals, villages, not cities, and that Emperors ran the government, not elected officials; that they lived in stone castles that the Lodestar Academy’s aesthetics closely resemble, except ours were a rich terra cotta, not ivory.

The shuttle pulls to a stop upon reaching the main entrance, which features an archway with chiseled pillars and wrought-iron gates. There’s a large plaque with the school's name and crest firmly embedded in the arch’s crown, but it’s the strange symbols under it that catch my eye.

"Passengers for Lodestar Academy, please exit to the right," the conductor announces over an intercom, snapping my attention back to my surroundings. "Student and faculty only. Those without permission to enter will be apprehended and fined. Good luck, and don’t die."

I snort. Outstanding pep talk.

I shuffle behind Zyth as we file out of the transport, spotting well over a thousand students already assembled just inside the gate.

"Have your ID's ready!" Someone at the gate shouts, and I watch the throng in front of me whip out their sleek tablets, their devices scanning their finger-prints and having all their information at the ready.

I roll my jaw as I pull out my recycled, bulky natter, tapping its screen to the link storing my identification network.

It takes as long as expected for all of us to be processed and cleared before setting foot inside the Academy's gates. No one pays close attention to me, much to my relief. With so many people coming in, there's no time to waste gaping at me.

Zyth and I stroll up to join the mass, keeping a comfortable distance away, when I overhear a grainy voice speaking in a hushed tone. "... said he wanted to inquire about The Cruisader’s whereabou–"

“He’s overreacting. The ship was probably delayed. We can come back for those students later,” someone responds, cutting him off short.

My ears perk, and I seek out the owners of the voices to find a female with long burgundy hair in a fashionable ivory jumpsuit speaking with a giant of a male, who might as well be a statue for all the life he exudes. His gray skin looks polished to a shine, and his deep-set eyes are ringed with small fissures.

I blink, wondering what he is. I've never seen or read anything about a race like him.

Both are standing in front of a group of what look like faculty members, and just as I begin to wonder who they are, the female claps her hands together loudly, demanding everyone’s attention.

"Welcome everyone to the Lodestar Academy, where we defy gravity to guard the galaxy. A place where members of the Interplanetary Alliance and Metagalactic Military come to earn their wings before becoming the galaxy's most elite protectors. I'm Vice President Rose Atwater, greeting you all in place of our President as he’s away on a last-minute conference."

A slow clap starts among the students gathered, and the Vice President beams as if it were a standing ovation.

"Every year, five thousand students are selected to join Lodestar Academy's prestigious program, and trust me when I say this is a tremendous feat for all of you, since more than a hundred thousand students apply each year.”

She gives us an expectant look as if to convey we should all be grateful, then continues with a voracious gleam in her eyes.

"Before you go any further, everyone must first be placed in a Section. Some of you may already know how the Sections work, but those of you who don't pay close attention. Individuals will be divided into groups based on your aptitude Exaltation number, which legally can only be measured at Lodestar Academy. This isn't the same as your aptitude evaluations where you demonstrate your abilities prior to admittance," she explains, and holds up a small reflective device. "This scanner calculates the accurate measurement of your aptitude’s culmination, where it determines your strengths so it can fairly distribute you into your assigned Section. This is non-discriminatory, only meant for the safety of everyone for combative classes so we can provide the proper training. These records are confidential, and each faculty member reading your score is held to a strict non-disclosure agreement so no one will know your Exaltation number but them and you."

Her eyes dart around with intrigue as people begin expressing their excitement, whispering to each other in anticipation. I quirk a brow, wondering what the fuss is all about. I have little knowledge about the inner dynamics of the Academy, so the significance of the Exaltation number is lost on me.

“I heard we have an exciting collection in this group, and I can't wait to learn where you all rank," the Vice President says, and clasps her hands in front of her. "That being said, those scoring lowest in aptitude, the 0-29 category, will be placed in Sigma, the color for your Section is navy. Those who get scores of 30-49 place in Epsilon Section, color emerald. 50-69 go to Gamma Section, plum. 70-89 are in Zeta, Section color is maroon. And lastly, 90-100, which is the highest ranking," she pauses, her hungry eyes skating over us, "go into Ultima Section, your color is onyx. It's extremely rare to be 100, but we do get lucky from time to time when one pops up."

I frown as a feral smile spreads across her face, revealing her sharp canines that mark her as Wardor. "Now, if you'll please form equal lines in front of the faculty members with scanners, we can begin the Exaltation reading process."

Before the words even leave her lips, everyone rushes into groups, eager to have their Exaltation numbers read.

I mosey toward a line, dragging my feet, not in any rush. Zyth, once again, stays close beside me.

The Vice President says our placement into Sections is non-discriminatory, but the whole admission selection process has already been preferential, and I'm low on the pecking order. So I couldn't care less about a number or color that’ll only cause more bias.

After what seems like forever, our line finally dies down with only one person standing between us and the staff member whose name I didn’t grasp.

I not-so-subtly urge Zyth to go before me, wanting to remain ignorant of my results for as long as possible. She goes without complaint and steps towards the male holding the reflective scanner.

With a gruffness that belies his true mood and annoyance at having to repeat the same spiel, he gives her instructions. “Insert your finger inside the scanner’s mouth. There’ll be a sharp prick as it draws blood to confirm your identity in the database and analyze your Exaltation number.”

With a curt nod, she slides her finger into the opening and he presses a trigger until it beeps, then looks down at it. "Impressive. 98," he reads quietly to her, but I pick it up with my sharp hearing, anyway.

My jaw drops. 98!? And she thought of being friends with me?

Zyth glances back at me with a worried expression, which takes me off guard. Shouldn't she be ecstatic?

I plaster a smile to show support. I don't know why. Maybe because I'm starting to like her and want her to know I'm happy for her.

"Ultima's over there," the staff member tells her, nodding towards the small group standing off to the side.

I use the word small loosely in view of there being probably a hundred people collected there, whereas the other groups look like they have about five times that.

With slow, reluctant steps, Zyth makes her way over to the group. Her eyes never leave mine as she goes.

Irritation licks my spine. I want to bark at her that I’m not some delicate child that needs my hand held.

After resetting the scanner, the faculty member turns to me, and a look of shock crosses his face.

Yeah, I get it. I'm an anomaly.

With visible irritation and a disgruntled sigh, he waves me over to him. I hold out my finger as I step forward, letting him know I’ve heard his directions over a dozen times and he can save his breath, to which he looks appreciative.

He brings the scanner up and I meet him halfway, slipping my index finger into its orifice and I close my eyes as my stomach does a swan dive. My mind fills with possible scenarios, such as I'll become a laughing stock if I'm ranked Sigma. It's already a joke to everyone that I'm here. If they learn that not only am I Ravegeer, but a low-ranking one, will they see me as a waste?

Pull yourself together, Nira. You’re not making this any easier.

I feel a slight sting.

The scanner beeps.

My eyes squeeze harder.

"What the fuck?" He blurts out with alarm. I hear him reset the scanner and another pinch comes. This time, I hiss as it jabs into my fresh wound. A second later, it gives another beep. He swears again.

Did I break it?

I peek open one eye nervously as I withdraw my finger, cradling it in my other palm.

He shoots a glance over his shoulder towards the Vice President. "Rose, come take a look at this."

The V.P.'s smile fades when she spots me and hurries over to us. She shakes her head after seeing the scanner. "Not possible. I'll try mine."

She holds up her device, and I scowl, inserting an uninjured finger into the scanner. A knot begins to form in my stomach as I wait for the beep, wondering what the issue is. People start noticing there's a problem and begin to whisper and stare. Some even whip their phones out to take pictures.

Ugh. And things were going so well.

Without realizing it, I seek out Zyth, finding she’s watching us with paramount anticipation.

The scanner beeps, and Rose's eyes widen. "I- I don't understand how?" She looks up at me and her expression instantly darkens. "Well, Ravegeer, it seems your aptitude score places you in Ultima, which is the most grueling Section to be in. By law, you are required to attend in the Section you've been measured." Her eyes flick over my ears with judgment. "Even if your aptitude's useless." I grit my teeth and bite back my retort as she leans into me. "I hope you're ready for what's coming. Remember, you signed up for this. Don't come crying to us when you break."

She storms off, leaving me fuming. If she thinks I'll fall apart just because of some hazing and tough classes, she needs to reevaluate herself. My thick skin wasn't given to me overnight. I’ve been hardened by insults, bullying, isolation, and disregard from people trying to bring me down for as long as I can remember. I've worked my ass off for this opportunity, and I'm not going to let it slip through my fingers now that I've finally made it.

My attention swings to Zyth as she rushes over, rips the scanner from the faculty member’s hands, and looks at it, completely unconcerned by his disapproving snarl.

Her eyes light up like mine does when someone hands me a chocolate cake.

Gluttonous and obstinate.

"What does it say?" I ask. Immediately after the question leaves my lips, I regret it. My gut tosses with anxiety. The words of my Astrology forecasting come back to haunt me: brace for a self-discovery that will set those events into motion.

Zyth looks up with a wide grin and says in a low voice, "Your aptitude is a perfect 100."