Free Burden of Sisyphus by Jon Messenger

perused the new class.   Keryn felt his gaze linger on her as he scanned, a slight flicker of surprise passing over his face at the sight of her bronzed skin and brightly colored tattoos.   Moments later, his gaze moved on, and she was left wondering if his stern appraisal was nothing more than her imagination.
                “I wish you all the best during your tenure at the Academy,” he said after the long pause.   “Around the room, you’ll see your future instructors.   They are rigid and intent on teaching you everything you need to know, not only as a pilot but as a soldier.   Each of you has much to learn.   Don’t take the berating personally.   All your counterparts will receive the same poor treatment.”        
                His comments invoked a round of nervous laughter, as the students tried to determine if that was a joke.
                “Learn from them.   Study hard.   In two years, I’ll see you again as graduates and proud members of the Alliance Fleet.”
                Stepping from the podium, he turned to walk off stage.   An Oterian instructor, stuffed into a broad-shouldered black uniform, stepped forward from the line of instructors against the right wall.
                “On your feet!” he shouted, his deep voice rumbling throughout the vaulted room.   “You always stand whenever the dean or an instructor enters or leaves the room.   Am I understood?”
                “Sir, yes, Sir!” the students replied.
                “Then you’re dismissed,” he said, as the dean disappeared behind the curtains lining the stage.   “Find your assigned rooms and get settled. Classes and physical training begin first thing tomorrow morning.”
                The students funneled out through the auditorium’s large rear doors.   Once outside, second-year-students were there to welcome the new cadets and give them their room assignments.   Iana and Keryn traced their fingers down the list in front of a second-year Lithid, who assisted them.   Their names were written side-by-side.
                With a broad smile, Iana turned to Keryn.   “Let’s go find our room, Roomie!”

CHAPTER SIX
     
                The long journey to Fatutu IV was punctuated by a few fights among members of the Goliath’s crew and Vance’s covert operations team.   The team’s mood was sour, and even their tolerance of each other was low.   Most of Vance’s time was spent apologizing to the captain and different officers throughout the ship instead of getting any relaxation time.   When the captain finally announced they were arriving, Vance was relieved.
                He accompanied his team to the hangar, eager to be on one of the first transports leaving the ship.   Their uniforms were traded in for loose shirts and knee-length shorts.   Even their disgruntled moods were replaced by smiles and friendly jests.
                Loud laughter preceded the team’s entrance to the hangar.   Ainj threw his arm comfortably around Nova’s shoulders.   Yen and Eza joked like lost brothers, followed by the ever-stoic Ixibas and the stooped Tusque, bending low to pass under the doorframe.   Vance came behind them but didn’t approach the transport.
                “We wish you’d come with us,” Yen called.
                “Is there any way we can convince you to join us?” Eza asked.
                Vance shook his head.   “No.   I have promises to keep.   You have fun.   Above all, keep out of trouble.”
                “I don’t understand why he worries about us.”   Ainj’s voice sang in typical Avalon style.   “It’s almost as if he doesn’t trust us.”
                “Or he actually knows us,” Tusque added, his deep voice carrying easily through the open hangar.
                “If you