Kaiell groaned as the harsh beeping of his alarm clock yanked him out of sleep. He rolled onto his side, his muscles aching from the long shift of the day before, and slapped the off switch. Sunshine streamed in through the cracked blinds on his small room, casting golden stripes across the metal-panelled walls. Another hard day stretched out before him on Rust-12, the rust-polluted, wind-swept world that he considered home.
His dwelling was one of the small prefab units, the norm for miners' colony laborers. He had grown up with his uncle, Sloan, a grizzled veteran of the wars of old who had taken him in when his parents had gone missing—lost to the uncaring vastness of the galaxy before he was more than able to remember them. Sloan had been everything to him: guardian, mentor, the only family he had. But when Kaiell was twelve, Sloan was fatally injured in a mining accident, pinned beneath a fallen support beam deep within the ground. The image of his dead uncle haunted his nightmares, a wound that never healed.
Since then, Kaiell had fended for himself, growing up too fast in a universe that didn't care about weakness. He worked processing ore, his days spent refining raw materials into the precious metals the galaxy so desperately needed. But this wasn't the existence he wanted.
Kaiell kicked his legs over the edge of his cot and rubbed sleep from his eyes. Today was important—not just because of work, but since it was the final day before Kruger's Elites recruitment trials. The Elites were the cream of the crop, humanity's defense against horrors in the distant regions of space. The Voidlings, unearthly horrors out of the depths of the unknown, terrorized the security of entire star systems, and the Elites were the only force able to hold them back.
He had always envied them being a boy himself, ever since he first had seen the holovids of their battles. Now, when the trials finally were approaching, his chance finally had arrived.
While he cinched on his work jumpsuit, there came a knock. "Kaiell! Are you awake?"
It was Joran, his best friend and co-worker. The two had grown up together, getting into trouble in the back alleys of the colony and making big plans. While Kaiell fumed at being stuck on Rust-12, Joran was content with the possibility of taking over his uncle's repair shop one day.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm up," Kaiell grumbled, swinging open the door. Joran leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a smile spreading across his face.
"You look like hell."
"Feel like it too."
"Thrilled about the trials?" Joran asked as they set off towards the center work district.
"Nervous," Kaiell admitted. "I've trained, but who's to know what the exam will be like? The Elites don't take just anyone."
Joran grinned. "You'll be fine. You've been fixated on them since we were kids. If anyone can make it, it's you."
Kaiell wished his friend was correct. The tests would be merciless, designed to weed out all but the finest potential recruits. Physical tests, combat assessments, tactical screening—only the toughest, smartest, and strongest would make it through.
But for the moment, at least, he had to make it through one more shift.
The clang of metal and whir of equipment reverberated throughout the refinery as Kaiell labored, hours ticked by as he stood vigilant over the smelters and purified the raw ore. Sweat dripped from his brow, the furnaces burning with a heat that drove the air thick and heavy. But despite the weariness of his flesh, his mind still returned to the trials. To the opportunity to escape Rust-12 and move into a larger purpose.
Once his shift finished, he drove home to prepare. His small room was cluttered with training manuals, documents, and out-of-date equipment—testaments to Sloan's instruction, what his uncle had taught him before he died. He sat on his bed, holding a frayed knife that had once belonged to Sloan. It was all that was left of him, a testament to a man who had shaped his life.
He breathed deeply. "I won't let this opportunity slip away."
The following morning, he boarded the shuttle that would carry him to the Kruger Academy, where the trials would start. He was not alone—dozens of other aspirants occupied the transport, each with the same aspiration. Some appeared confident, others apprehensive, but all were willing to battle for their spot among the stars.
As the shuttle ascended, Kaiell glanced one last time at Rust-12. This was it. It was all over. His journey had started.