Planet Onyx, Zeta Doradus System
August 2539
The blare of a siren. That was what Isya woke to. Her and her dozen bunk mates scrambled to figure out what was going on.
"Wake up, maggots!"
The male voice managed to pierce through the noise. It was an impressive feat given how deep the adult's voice was.
"Move! Move! MOVE!"
The ten-year-old's body protested. Her mind was at a loss. Yet, with the grace of an unoiled tinman, she arose. Her feet made the necessary motions of locomotion, unwillingly carrying the burden of a very tired child.
"You. Fish shit. Are you the fucking Tortoise?"
Spittle sprayed across Isya's face. Luck had bestowed her the privilege of the adult's ire. She looked at him. Her face painted with a mix of confusion and fear. It took her two moments just to form a response.
"What?"
Two moments too much.
"MOVE!"
This time, there was no moment needed. She fled the bunkhouse. Outside, the girl was greeted by the siren itself along with hundreds of other dazed children.
'Why is it so loud...?' It was the first coherent thought she formed so far, though Isya wasn't sure if she actually heard herself think it. Instead, she held herself, trying not to shiver. The feeling of cloth instead of skin surprised her. In place of her old skirt and shirt were plain gray fatigues. Slowly, the memories came back. The fall. The acceptance of candidacy. Whisked to the base. Sent to the bunks. Sleep. Now. Her head began to spin. Too much, too soon.
Just when she had had enough, the sirens calmed down. The chatter of the youngsters, while preventing true quiet, was hardly a comparison. It was good enough. Isya closed her eyes.
"Poke."
A prod. Isya ignored her shoulder being pushed in and continued to rest in her mind.
"What'cha doing?"
Another prod. This time harder. She opened her eyes and glared at her assailant. His response was a toothy smile.
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Stop touching me."
Poke. Her annoyance began to blaze into anger.
"I said stop touching me!"
"I am not touching you."
The singsong merriment did not help Isya's mood. Her glare neared the intensity of a laser. If only it could actually burn through him. Instead, the boy only widened his cheeky grin.
"My name's Will."
Silence. It was the tried and true treatment. Not once did it fail to get the solitude she wanted. Undeterred, Will deftly got behind her. Surprised, she spun around to see what the blond child was doing. He managed to stay behind her nonetheless. And so they spun, a planet and her moon.
Too dizzy to continue, she broke her quiet. "What are you doing?"
"I-c-ya." He sounded out.
"What?"
"That's your name! I-c-ya. What a weird name."
"That's not my name! It's I-zeh-ah."
"Oh. Still a weird name."
She puffed her cheeks.
"Not-uh."
"Uh-huh."
It was incredible how he managed to get under her skin. Already he had elicited more words out of her than anyone else since forever.
"Not-uh"
"Uh-huh"
"Attention candidates."
The endless exchange ceased. The duo looked up toward the interruption, the siren.
"Attention candidates. Congratulations achieving candidacy. Please go to attendance hall D20 for further instruction. Follow the red lights."
"YOU HEARD THE BOT! MOVE IT!"
Isya's eyes widened. She knew that shrill voice. The thought of seeing the hawk woman again was more than enough motivation to "move it". Before the crowd could begin to lurch, Isya pushed her way toward the red glow.
"Hey, hold up."
Isya did not lessen her pace.
"Hey! What's the big deal?" Will gave her a frown. It was an odd sight for such a happy face.
"They said follow the red light."
"So what?"
She slowed.
"What do you mean 'so what'?" There was clear agitation now. Why wouldn't he just leave her alone?
"You were leaving me behind."
"Ya, so what?"
Will stared. It dawned on Isya that she might have spoken too fast. The sharp jab of using his own words against him made the cut that much deeper. She waited for him to speak. When he didn't, she considered apologizing.
'Why should I? It's not like I want him here...' she thought.
He had done nothing but annoy her. She hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't her fault if he was upset. She didn't owe him anything. So, the girl held her tongue. For a few steps, she remained in front of Will. Her pace then slowed so as to walk beside him. The boy remained quiet. As they moved, Isya heard not the cacophony of some three hundred voices but only silence.
The auditorium was, like the rest of the facility, gray, rigid, and spartan. Residing somewhere on the right end of the middle, Isya squirmed. The bland brown seats favored utility over comfort. She glanced over her left. Will stared at the center stage.
"Hey." She whispered.
He turned. His frown had not left.
"Umm..." Isya stuttered. She didn't want to say it. It wasn't fair for her say it. Especially when she didn't mean it. "...what'cha looking at?"
"Nothing..."
"Didn't look that way." She countered.
"Not-uh"
Instead of responding, she puffed her cheeks out and made a face. The sly grin returned on her neighbor's face. Before anymore could occur, someone spoke up.
"Good morning, candidates."
The words came from all around. Isya looked about trying to find the source. The voice was unlike the siren's, full of life and energy.
"If you want to know who is speaking..." An old man appeared in front of Isya. "...here I am."
She jumped in surprise at the sight. The man was a hologram, a foot tall. Flakes of snow blew around him as he smiled. Then he was gone, returning back to his disembodied form.
"First, congratulations. You have taken your first step toward becoming Spartans. Here, you will take your next step, joining a team."
Whatever was speaking paused for dramatic flair.
"Before we begin, I must tell you that when your name is called you need to follow the lighting on the floor. Now that that is out of the way...Team Alpha-"
Will gave her a nudge.
"Think we'll be on the same team?"
She pursed her lips. It wouldn't be bad to have someone she knew on her team. Sure he was annoying, but...
"Maybe."
"Next is Team India-"
"I hope so," he whispered.
The girl said nothing. Instead, she allowed a small smile of her own to come out. Whatever caused the smile was a foreign thing. Whatever it was, it left the smile unharmed as names flew by like darts, each one narrowly missing.
"Alright, Team November consists of the following candidates: James, Henry, Grace.
Three more darts.
"And Isya."
Bulls-eye.
She made a slow turn to Will. His face was blank. Her mouth opened, then closed. She removed herself from her seat. There was a soft green glow resting on the tired gray tiles. It beckoned her. Isya obliged, leaving the foreign feeling and Will behind.
As she blindly traced the lighted path, her mind mauled over the turn of events. It wasn't like Will was actually her friend. How many times had she said that? Isya ignored that thought. It was better this way. Slowly, she found herself settling into a familiar mood, acceptance. In the end, she was on her own and that was alri-.
"Oof." Isya stumbled backwards.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, dipshit!"
"Shut up, James."
"No, you shut up."
Isya shook her head, dazed. How long had she been walking? Ignoring the banter of "James" and some other boy, she looked to see where she was. Gray bunks, gray walls, gray tiles. To her surprise, she was once again in the bunkhouse. Or at least a bunkhouse. Everything was so wonderfully monochromic, it hard was hard to tell.
"Don't worry about them." someone whispered.
Isya turned. Ahead, a blonde girl stood, half a head shorter than Isya. Between the girl's smile and her sapphire eyes, she easily captured Isya's attention.
"Oh." A tart response. Isya didn't mean it, but what else was she supposed to say?
And thus, for the third time this day, Isya once again prompted an awkward silence. Assuming the silence included the escalating shouting contest between the two boys.
"My name's Grace."
Isya shook her head. It seemed that Grace hadn't been whispering her voice was just that soft.
"What?" She shouted, trying to cut through the yelling.
Grace started to repeat herself.
"My name is..." She trailed off when it was clear Isya still couldn't hear. The blonde held up her hand and raised one finger. Recognizing the "wait a minute", Isya stood as Grace strode toward the now wrestling boys. As they rolled on the floor, Grace gave a kick to both of them. They stopped.
"What?" Incredibly, they spoke in unison.
"You two were being loud."
They responded with blank faces. Taking advantage of the ceasefire, Grace faced Isya once more.
"Anyway, my name is Grace."
"Oh."
Once again, Isya managed to invite a socially awkward silence.
"...and what's your name?"
"Isya."
"Nice to meet you-" Before Grace could finish, the redheaded boy stepped in front.
"-my name is Ja-" Ironically, he too was interrupted as the other boy shoved him.
"-my name is Hen-"
"-how about I do this?" Grace gently moved between the two boys before another fight could break out. Surprisingly, despite her inferior size, Grace made an effective barrier between the quarreling pair.
"Like I said, my name's Grace."
She pointed to the redhead on her left, the same boy Isya had ran into.
"This is Henry."
"Hi..." He grunted.
Isya returned a small wave of hello. The boy was an oddity to her. Little brownish dots covered his pale face. They were accompanied by a flat nose and dull green eyes that seemed to be constantly squinting. All of this rested on a small round head that topped off his rather large body. The more she stared the more comical the sight became. If he hadn't been right there, Isya would have probably snickered at the sight.
"And this is James."
"Hey." He greeted.
While not quite as big, James was still impressively large for his age. He, unlike Henry, was far less humorous for Isya to stare at. His shaggy black hair contrasted James' cropped tuff of red, as did he tanned skin to the other boy's pale coloring. The straight nose and large brown eyes he wore made him a far more familiar sight to her. Indeed, his face mirrored hers. Aside from eyes and nose, he also sported a large mouth. Plus he hadn't yelled at her. She liked him much more.
"You're Isya, right?" This time it was Grace.
"Ya."
"You don't talk a lot do you?"
"No."
Grace gave her a look as Isya realized that she had made her point. After rolling her eyes, Grace continued.
"Well, I guess this is everyone. Now what?"
"I don't care, as long as I get to be Spartan!" It dawned on Isya that James was the opposite of Grace, boisterous and...loud. Maybe she didn't like him quite so much.
Henry snorted. "Aren't we a team or something?" He questioned, ignoring James' glare.
"I think so." The blonde girl affirmed. Isya nodded in agreement with Grace.
"Indeed you are a team!" An elderly man, blue in color, materialized in the middle of the group.
The four kids jumped at the appearance.
"What the fuck is that?"
"Well, Mr. James, I am Deep Winter."
"What kind of name is that?" This time is was Henry.
Rather than saying, Deep Winter just made a slight movement. At this behest, simulated snowflakes appeared overhead.
"I guess that makes more sense..."
"It's still weird." Henry muttered.
Isya could have almost sworn the hologram rolled its eyes. However, before she could be sure, the blue man moved on.
"Now, my underlings, you are Team November." His tone shifted from its energetic, singsong state to something more somber. "I know you all once had brothers and sisters. Look around you. Who you see will be your new siblings. Your new family." He gave a pause, though it seemed like the second he took was an eternity to him. "Ms. Grace, I believe you asked what's next. Well, history class is next."
The quartet stared at him.
"What? No one said this was school!" Henry's words more than embodied the group's thoughts.
The devious face was an odd sight on the frost covered man. "If you want to be a Spartan, you better get moving." It was almost as if he was enjoying this. "Oh, and you have five minutes before it starts."
He disappeared.
James grit his teeth. The sound made for good accompaniment as Isya and Grace stared at each other in disbelief.
"Where are we even supposed to go?"
Henry's shout of frustration summoned a familiar friend, a green light on the floor. Without hesitation, James began to follow it out the bunkhouse with Henry in hot pursuit. Isya and Grace gave one last dumbfound look to one another, before tracing the boys' steps.