Archive of Our Own

'I want to be sure you understand what you're signing up for.'

'Sir? What's causing you doubt?'

A young blond man in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts looks out of place in the cool, dim office of the War College's chancellor. The chancellor, a grumpy man in dark blue camouflage, looks at the visitor suspiciously, shrugging his square shoulders.

'You have an excellent diploma, Jokovich, and all the medical clearances, but I'm concerned about your specific life experience. Convince me you're ready for the prospects of education and service, and you'll be accepted without entrance exams.'

'How can I convince you?'

Kyle Jokovich glances toward the window, and his smile slowly fades. The sun is shining and the wind is blowing outside, but here everything seems frozen, and the gaze of Chancellor Kelrec, under his heavy eyelids, seems icy as well. Few would have dared to remind Kyle so directly, of his specific experience. Adults usually avoid the topic, mince words, and avert their gaze. The chancellor remains silent and stares. Kyle smiles again and gives a new attempt:

'After what happened to my family, I wanted to... protect others. Do you understand?'

'No,' Kelrec answers dryly. 'What do you gain by protecting others? It won't bring your family back.'

'Does it matter?' Kyle feels hot and stuffy, despite his thin Hawaiian shirt and the coolness of the office.

He doesn't want to think back to that day when he simply left the house, simply went to school, simply heard the warning about orbital shelling, simply spent the evening with his classmates in the school basement, simply ran home before he was allowed to, and simply couldn't find his house on his street, as if it had never been there. It doesn't hurt to remember it now. He just doesn't want to. He angrily wipes an uninvited tear from his cheek under the chancellor's stern gaze.

'I can be useful, and I want to be useful, what else?'

'That's not enough,' the chancellor counters.

'I'm well-trained and well-educated. You've seen the test results...'

'You have excellent credentials, Jokovich. You'll be welcome anywhere. There are plenty of places where you could live a peaceful life, free of retraumatizing. Why the War College? What makes you so sure you belong here?'

'How can I prove it to you?!' Kyle looks around, approaches the chancellor's desk, and grabs a pointed stylus. The chancellor raises his eyebrows questioningly, and Kyle, without hesitation, thrusts the tip of the stylus deep into his palm. 'You see?'

Kelrec seems unimpressed. He chuckles wearily and shakes his head. Then he stands, walks around the desk, and takes Kyle's hand in his own, examining the wound, whitened at the sides and bleeding in the middle.

'Well, at least not into the eye... Are you that insensitive to pain? It's not noted in the medical files.'

Kyle smiles triumphantly, looking down at the short chancellor:

'I'm not afraid of pain, you see? I'm not afraid of anything anymore. I'm not some traumatized teen...'

'And who are you? An unbreakeable war machine?' Kelrec grumbles skeptically, treating the wound with a regenerator. 'Do you really think our College is a war machine factory? Wake up. Our work requires a sober understanding of reality. And reality is given to us through sensation.'

He lifts Kyle's hand higher, examining his palm critically before releasing it and looking him in the eye again.

'This is what you must sign up for, Jokovich. Open yourself to the sensations.'

Kyle stands with his head bowed, beginning to shiver slightly from the cold.

'I'm truly sorry,' the grumpy chancellor says, gently taking the pale boy by the shoulder. 'If you're insensitive to pain and loss, you shouldn't be given weapons or power. You'll destroy yourselves, and you'll destroy those you swear to protect, too.'

'T-that was painful just now,' Kyle tries to sound ironic, though his lips are trembling and tears are welling up in his throat. Kelrec smiles at the corner of his mouth, appreciating his attempt, and pulls close a chair for him.

'Crying is allowed,' he says encouragingly. 'Sit down and think about how you'll live without your armor.'

He moves to the wall, opens the safe, and meddles with something inside, allowing Kyle to sit there with the ill-fated stylus in his hand, silently staring into space. After a while, the office warms, and a mug of hot tea with a subtle minty aroma appears on the table in front of Kyle. He hugs the mug with both hands, feeling a slight ache in his freshly healed left palm.

'And how do you live?' he asks, looking up at the chancellor. 'Without your armor?'

Kelrec sighs heavily and pulls up a second chair to sit next to him.

'Sometimes it's very difficult,' he says.

He raises his mug high, as if in a silent toast, before moving it to his lips.

Kyle lowers his eyelashes and says quietly:

'Can you give me a trial period? I don't know... a year? Six months?'

The chancellor bows his head appraisingly and nods, 'Two semesters and a summer internship, Jokovich. As promised, no entrance exams.'

'With all due respect, sir... I'd prefer to pass the exams,' Kyle says decisively, sipping his tea.

'Any reason?' Kelrec smiles, this time approvingly.

'I don't want... an indulgence ,' Kyle breathes out. 'I want to be like everyone else here.'

He can't express himself more clearly right now. But he sees that the chancellor understands him completely.