Chapter 2: Orientation

Kai stepped off the transport ship and into the stark, metallic corridors of the Stellar Union Naval Academy. The air smelled sterile, tinged with the faint hum of ozone from the artificial lighting overhead. Around him, dozens of recruits shuffled in uneasy formation, their civilian lives left behind. A towering officer with a voice like steel barked orders, directing them towards processing. There was a uneasy excitement in the air, and the whole thing felt surreal to Kia.

The initial briefing was a study in intimidation. Recruits stood shoulder to shoulder in a vast auditorium as Commander Raines, a rigid woman with a gaze sharp enough to cut metal, took the stage. "You are no longer civilians. You are assets," she declared. "Your skills, your labor, your loyalty will serve the Union. Failure to comply will not be tolerated."

Kai felt the weight of her words settle over him, but he refused to be cowed. He resolved to learn the rules of this new world, to play along—but never to surrender his identity. As the recruits filed out, his mind churned with thoughts of survival and strategy.

The first weeks of training unfolded with the precision and rigidity one would expect from the Stellar Union Navy. The recruits were split into specialized programs tailored to their skills. Engineers like Kai were funneled into the Technical Corps, a division that blended physical conditioning with intensive technical education. If war was an inferno, the Technical Corps ensured its machinery burned at peak efficiency.

Each day began with grueling physical training—long runs through narrow, artificially lit corridors and weight drills in zero-G environments to simulate the rigors of space combat. Kai's muscles screamed for relief, but he pushed through, driven by a mix of stubbornness and pride. Despite his initial resistance to military life, he refused to let the Union break him. Then the various Corps would break off into specialised training. Simulated space walks and various ship repair training was common for Kias group.

Training began before dawn, with a wake-up call that sent recruits scrambling from their bunks. Within minutes, they were outside in the artificial light of the station's training yard, muscles still stiff from the cramped quarters of their dormitories.

"Form up!" bellowed Sergeant Dorne, a hulking man with a voice like thunder. "Five laps around the deck—move!"

The day unfolded in a blur of drills—combat readiness, technical briefings, emergency response scenarios. Every task tested them, weeding out those who couldn't adapt. Kai refused to be among the weak.

Elias quickly became a companion during these trials. His sharp humor masked a deeper understanding of their shared predicament. "Think of it this way," he quipped one morning as they jogged alongside a group of exhausted recruits. "By the time we're done here, we'll be too tired to care who's shooting at us."

"Comforting," Kai retorted, sweat dripping from his brow. "Remind me to quote you when we're dodging plasma bolts on the next mid-battle space repair sim."

The Union prided itself on technological superiority, and the Simulators showcased this in full. Holographic starship interiors flickered to life, each simulation a meticulously designed test of engineering prowess. Kai's group—an eclectic mix of mechanics, programmers, and shiphands—was tasked with diagnosing and repairing simulated system failures under strict time constraints. Holographic alarms blared as recruits fumbled with unfamiliar controls.

"Elias, cut auxiliary power to non-essential systems!" Kai shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Redirect cooling units to the reactor core."

Elias hesitated, then moved swiftly, following Kai's command. Meanwhile, Kai pinpointed a simulated reactor leak that was radiating the ship, and sealed it with precise keystrokes. Within moments, the alarms silenced. The instructor, a grizzled veteran, studied them before nodding.

"Well done, Mercer only half the ship died this time, I'd call that an improvement."

Not every simulation ended in success. During a high-pressure drill, Kai miscalculated an energy reroute, causing the simulated ship to suffer catastrophic failure. The instructor's cold gaze landed on him as the holograms flickered out.

"Do it again. And do it right." Frustration burned in Kai's chest, but he swallowed it. Failure wasn't an option—not here. Fatigue became their constant companion. Days blurred into one another, filled with grueling runs, sleepless nights, and relentless drills. Kai's hands blistered from the work, his patience stretched thin. Yet, he adapted, refusing to let the Union wear him down.

Elias became an anchor, his sharp humor offering a brief respite from the strain. One night, as they collapsed onto their bunks, he smirked at Kai. "You know, you're not half-bad at this. For a shipbuilder."

Kai snorted. "And you're not half-bad at keeping me sane. For a mechanic."

One night, as the barracks quieted, Kai lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His mind churned with plans, ideas, and a growing determination. They had taken him from his workshop, from his life. But they hadn't taken his mind. If he had to serve, he would find a way to turn this situation to his advantage. The Union thought they owned him, but Kai Mercer was not so easily controlled.