He put on his wrist devices, followed by the leather jacket. Next, he straps his backpack to his back. He drapes one sword over each shoulder and straps them to his backpack. Joran proceeds to open the front door. It is interrupted by coughing and he sees a small amount of blood with little black spots. He rubs it on his pant leg before proceeding on.
Joran walks down his dirt road before coming to the street which is made of dirt as well. After walking a quarter-mile where there is nothing but trees, Joran stops at a small driveway. His attention turn slowly to a large house.
The front doors open and a premderian boy with golden blonde hair comes rushing out. He wears the uniform of a Federation Cadet and carries a backpack that contains far less than what Joran carries but has a sword and shield attached. Seeing the boy makes Joran somewhat happy. His smile isn't as big as the blonde Premderian but still shows one none the less.
"Hey, Joran!" He shouts while rushing up to him and the two clasp hands.
"Hey, Traur," Joran says with a much more relaxed tone. "Are you prepared?"
"Far more prepared than most of those who aren't as ambitious," he tells Joran and his friend show a smaller nod. Traur touch on another matter that pertains to the subject they are on. "It would be great if you were with me. It would make schooling so much more enjoyable. The two of us would run our class if not the school."
"Officially I won't be. Besides, the Federation plays by rules I could never really abide by."
The two walk the streets and into the capital city of the region called Argusa. The capital of the region is big but a similar version of their town. All it has is bigger ports and a few hundred more people. They come to a school that is meant for five hundred students. All from the age of thirteen to nineteen walk inside. The staff is all Federation military officers, mainly other races with the exception of a few Premderians.
The cadets his age give Joran an ill look. Many whisper and snicker. Traur sees Joran smiling. Looking down at his friend's hands he sees that they are tight. Joran holds back and lets them walk up the steps and through the doors, adhering to what his father wrote.
"No fighting today?"
"Father instructed me not to. I think he believes I will go too far without someone to intervene on the other's behalf," Joran says to him and look down to the dirt in front of him. "I will meet you after."
Traur smiles and walk up the stairs alone and into the building. He looks around at first but is bumped a couple of times. His fault for standing in the middle of the hallway. Traur follow the first-year cadets to the classroom. The class only has fifteen kids in it. None of them seem very enthusiastic as him. He didn't speak to anyone and none speak to him.
There is a desk in the middle row on the far left. He takes a seat and puts down his backpack. He takes out a portable computer and a small round disk. With the disk, he places it next to his computer. Traur presses a button on the disk and it lights up with a green color.
"Hopefully it works."
Joran proceeds outside the town on the edge of the forest. He put his things down and open up his bag where there are a variety of things. One is a package of a meal ready to eat. The second is a portable computer. Cauror lays down in the grass, stretches out and falls asleep.
For Joran, he opens up his portable computer. On the screen come up a live feed of the full class where Traur sits quietly. He watches as a Warden comes into the room. Everyone continues talking as she comes in. Joran and Traur both watch her and show they recognize her.
Her face is badly burnt on the left side with the eye very swollen but not completely shut. She role up her sleeves revealing the the scars and burns. She has very dark brown hair that doesn't go lower than her ears and curl at the end. The Warden is the same age as Kalsor. Her fist slams down on the desk that has all of them go silent.
"Good morning class," she says when crossing her arms. "I am Warden Lorphiel Tronirg and will be your first-year instructor. What do you need to know about me? For ten years I have served in the Federation. All of them in their special forces branch. Before that, I was an honor guard for ten years. So if you think you know more than me when it comes to being a soldier I dare you to challenge me, and you will lose. Those of you who think I treat you unfairly, go cry to your weak-minded political parents," she says looking at a select few. "Those of you who are here to thrive and become a soldier, you are in the right place."
Everyone including Traur finds her somewhat intimidating just by the way she introduces herself. It didn't matter that she's half a foot over five feet. The spirit as a premderian is strong and is felt by all of them. As they stay quiet she pulls up on the screen what the topic is going to be.
It is the latest Premderian fighter. All decked out in red with gold on the back of the wings and the tails. The fighter has three engines. Two of normal size and the one in the center is much larger. It has three guns on each wing. On top of that, it has three missiles on each side.
"I did have planned a special guest planned for you today. Unfortunately, King Andor of had to reschedule due to business in the Federation capital," she explains and this leaves Joran snickering knowing that his father has the same business.
Joran didn't find his mind pondering it too long. His attention turns back to the class. He watches as the Warden pulls up a different model fighter. This one is grey with a trim of red on the wings. This model has two engines larger than the center engine of a Premderian fighter. On each wing, it has two guns but the barrels are larger. It also has the same amount of missiles with a similar design.
"This is a Gelm fighter. Considered the best fighter design in the East. In terms of firepower, it rivals that of our fighter. When it comes to speed, it is far superior due to it being lighter in weight. Despite it speeds the banking abilities of their fighter is not as great when it comes to banking abilities," she explains before one of the students raise their hands.
"Why do we need to know about the Gelm fighter, ma'am? They are our allies."
"They are our allies but also can at any point be our enemies. The time may come as well that you will need to fly one of their fighters," she explains to them before moving on to another fighter on the screen. "This is a Federation fighter."
The Federation fighter has four regular size engines that are perfectly aligned in a horizontal line. The wings fold down when in flight. On the starboard and port side of the cockpit, there are two guns along with two on the end of the wings. On each wing, it has four missiles and one bomb.
"This is the latest fighter model of the Federation. Recent studies show it is not equal to speed or banking capability in comparison to a Premderian fighter. However, it is considered durable and strong firepower thanks to its scientists. Simulations have shown going head to head with them is their strength. So watch it."
"What if we get into a head to head conflict with them? What can we do?" One student abruptly asks.
"You have superior firepower and a more durable fighter," she says with a smile.
All of them have a small laugh when it comes to the answer she gives. Joran has a small laugh as the class continues. When midday sun comes, the class break for lunch. As everyone leaves, the Captain calls upon one of them to stay behind.
"Cadet Traur Tronirg, wait a moment," she says and all of them look back at him while stopping what he is doing. Everyone else leaves and the door shut while he sits quietly but nervous. She leans against her desk and crosses her arms, keeping a confident smile. "Who's watching the class?" She asks and catches him off guard. She points at the device. "Short-range transmission, custom made from the looks of it. So who's watching?"
Joran didn't hesitate. He immediately sends a live transmission feed of himself. A hologram appears in front of Traur and Lorphiel. For Lorphiel she didn't seem surprised by the sight of Joran. She shakes her head but did keep a smile. Joran keeps his mouth shut like Traur.
"Joran. I shouldn't say I am surprised. When there is one of you, the other is not so far away. Did you not feel like fighting any prospects?" She asks and Traur smiles. When she holds up her hand, he stops. She points to the ground. Traur gets down and starts doing push-ups on his knuckles. "Your friend can be accused of aiding a spy. So why risk his future getting caught?"
"I acted on my own free will, ma'am," Traur says while continuing his push-ups. "Joran has more potential than myself."
"But is not a cadet for a good reason," she comments while looking at Joran stand quiet. "Even though you're not a prospect, you of all Premderians should have more sense, but you continue to live up to your nickname. The Wildfire must burn everything in its path before being satisfied," she tells him before snapping her fingers leading to Traur to stand up and go to attention. "Do not let me catch you again, Cadet Traur. Next time the consequences will be far less forgiving," she tells him and Traur continues standing at attention like a statue. "Dismissed, son," she says to him and Traur immediately leaves but Joran remains on the hologram. "I will inform your father when he returns," she says before reaching to end the transmission.
"You can take the Federation fighter head to head with a Premderian fighter," he says which gets Lorphiel to retract her hand. "The Premderian fighter has longer range on its guns and even longer with its missiles. If you target the port side of the Federation ship, just under the cockpit, you can weaken the shields enough. If a premderian pure-blooded pilot is good enough they can take down the Federation fighter with a couple of shots and still be able to continue the fight without taking any hits to their fighter."
Lorphiel stands silent the entire time but shows no smile when it comes to what Joran has to say. He didn't say it in an overconfident manner and try being humble with what he says. Her reaction makes him feel like he steps out of line with someone who is far more experienced. Joran says nothing more regarding the matter and ends the transmission.
She picks up the transmission device and looks at it for a moment before going back to her desk. After placing the device down she goes over to her computer and pulls up the information on both a premderian and Federation fighter. Lorphiel runs the numbers and conducts a simulation of her own when it comes to the matter Joran speaks of.
The simulation shows the percentage is low of striking the target with a missile. However, if done correctly as Joran suggests, the shield immediately drops low enough to a weak enough state. A window of five seconds is open when it comes to firing the guns on a premderian fighter. A few well-placed shots do take out the Federation fighter and escape unharmed.
"Not bad, kid," she says when watching the simulation with a big grin.
By the time she finishes the simulation, her class starts filing back in. Traur is one of the first to come through the door. He sees the final image of the simulation she ran on the computer. He sits down at his desk and when the last cadet of the class sits down she starts the simulation from the beginning.
"Back on the subject of going head to head with Federation fighters, there is one maneuver that is risky but effective," Lorphiel explains to them.
On the edge of the woods, Joran shut his computer and put it back in the bag. He takes out his swords and begins practicing different techniques. Joran's mind focuses on an opponent. It is not the same armor as his friend, Mildral. The enemy is far more different in power, styles, and experience. He is fully grown at six feet plus the armor they wear.
This armor is green and has a yellow and redlining. On both shoulder guards, it has the symbol of a premderian honor guard stenciled in. His helmet is average-looking when comes to military-grade and a black eye shield. The warrior holds a long sword but has two axes attached to the outside of their thighs. On the back, it has a couple of thrusters.
Every time he sees the Premderian swinging the sword Joran sees himself countering the attack. After over an hour Joran sweat profusely. In his mind, the Premderian warrior continues to stand tall unfazed, and showing no signs of fatigue. Joran continues attacking but with more aggression. The premderian warrior Joran imagines is far superior and brings him down to one knee.
With the result, Joran let out a short but loud yell. The image of the premderian warrior vanish. Joran stands back up and takes a breath to regain his posture. He put his swords away and pull out a towel from his bag to wipe off the sweat from his body. His stomach growls and makes him smile. Joran looks to where he placed his food but find it gone. He looks around and finds no sign of the food pack.
"That's interesting."