Kyle yawned as he dismissed the screen he’d been reading, standing up from his cluttered desk to stretch. The next day’s exams were set to start in just six hours, and while he didn’t strictly need the sleep, he certainly wanted to at least get a nap in. Fortunately, this branch of the Collective Institute was only a twenty-minute walk away.
They had arrived in District Seven and settled into their accommodations nearly six months ago. His studies started almost immediately, and Kyle swiftly got into a familiar routine. Just like during his medical training, Kyle woke early and reviewed all his previous day’s material before eating and making it to the first lectures. He took copious notes throughout each day, aided by C.H.A.D.D. recording the lectures. Then, he would eat dinner and review the notes, organizing them by relevance and breaking down key themes before bed.
To a large extent, his familiarity with effective study habits had paid off. Many of his classmates were not academic types, and he suspected that the majority were planning to head to the Mercenary Guild based on the muscles, scars, and weapons that were so prevalent. Kyle, by contrast, was a natural student. Just six months in, he was already preparing for his final set of classroom examinations before the three-phase Practicum, while many others were on their second or third try for the course.
That’s not to say it was terribly easy. Because Kyle hadn’t lived inside the Collective, or even known of its existence, many things that would otherwise have been assumed knowledge, Kyle wasn’t aware of. Everybody else in his class came in with basic knowledge of each of the major factions, while Kyle had to learn the laws and customs of each. It was critical for any independent to have a functional understanding of the different groups that might hire them, after all.
As he did every night, he grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper, writing out the key points of each to ensure they were fresh in his mind. Kyle wanted to reinforce the cultural norms as much as he could as he prepared for his Practicum. He started with the Verdant Republic, which managed the district he was currently living in.
Verdant Republic – A collection of goblin, troll, and ogre planets with an electorate and representative rule. The higher the grade of the world, the more representation they get. New member planets have to abide by Collective and Verdant Republic regulations. They have the most extensive legal code and act as the unofficial lawyers of the major Collective factions.
Next, he moved on to the skrell, thinking of Skippy as he did.
Grey Conglomerate – A collection of major skrell businesses, primarily focused on manufacturing. Loose regulation, credits tend to speak loudest. New planets aren’t restricted to being majority skrell, their primary focus is on natural resources. They contract with outside organizations for profitable extractions.
The Grey Conglomerate reminded him of stories he’d heard about Earth before the Awakening, and he wondered for a moment if that’s where his planet would have ended up had things played out differently. The next group consisted of the tall, pale humanoids he’d seen before.
Alabaster Court – Membership is exclusive to the Velgian species. Functions as a merit-based nobility. More powerful individuals are given higher-tiered titles, with the lowest titles becoming available at C Grade. Very isolationist. Currently headed by an A Grade, with several others at the top of their organization. All are in seclusion, with the day-to-day being managed by several B Grade Regents.
It was highly unlikely that Kyle would ever be employed by the Alabaster Court, as they only rarely hired from the Guilds. In the cases where they did, they exclusively hired velgian-born. More realistically, if he crossed paths, it would likely be in an antagonistic capacity. Moving on, he thought of another strange group.
The Pillar – Made up of the Phytan species, this organization focuses primarily on terraforming and scientific advancement. They have colonial ambitions, but only for planets that are currently uninhabited. They helped design the Hub, and when star systems are moved in, they are responsible for calculating the alignment and energy reduction to ensure a smooth transition.
The floating swirls of algae had been very interesting to Kyle, and he was surprised to learn that they were the most scientifically advanced species. Each ‘individual’ was actually a collection of millions of assimilated components, all working towards a specific purpose. There wasn’t much information about their controlled systems, but apparently their B Grades would literally encompass an entire planet.
The last of the major independent factions was the Archdrake Empire.
Archdrake Supremacy – Ruled by A Grade Draconids, and the only faction with A Grades currently active and involved in Collective business. It’s a theocracy with followers from every species, and likely the most powerful force in terms of military might. Followers worship and tithe to the draconids, who in turn provide power and protection.
The Archdrake Supremacy was well-known and regarded. Unlike its peers, whose A Grades typically stayed in seclusion deep within their own territory, the draconids were involved and made occasional appearances at the Hub. Kyle suspected that their paths borrowed from their worshippers, though he didn’t note his suspicions.
Sighing as he closed his notebook, Kyle crossed the five or so steps from his desk to his bed. He grabbed a bottle of water from his night stand and drank deeply before lying down, mind still running over his studies. He’d prepared to go to bed nearly three hours ago, though he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. He’d hoped that a few extra hours of study would change that, but a feeling of restlessness set in the moment he closed his eyes. He tried to ignore it, but C.H.A.D.D. had other thoughts.
[DR. MAYHEW, I’M SHOWING INCREASED HEART RATE AND MUSCULAR TENSION. IS THE MATERIAL YOU WERE STUDYING THAT ENGAGING?]
At first, Kyle felt irritated, though that feeling faded as he recognized the drone was right. Kyle’s body was tense, and his mind hadn’t slowed down a bit.
“It’s not the material, C.H.A.D.D. I’m just… restless.”
[WHAT ARE YOU CONCERNED ABOUT?]
Despite the flat, robotic voice, it was clear that C.H.A.D.D. was genuinely worried about him. He drew in a deep breath and held it, before slowly exhaling. “The truth is, buddy, I don’t know. Everything just feels so… sterile since we moved here.”
Saying the words out loud helped to crystalize a lot of what Kyle had been feeling. He had spent nearly two years fighting for his life, the threat of the next challenge always looming over the horizon. Since their arrival at the Hub, there hadn’t been any real danger. The only thing he had to be concerned with was his dwindling credit balance, and even that would likely last for years if worst came to worst.
As if reading his mind, C.H.A.D.D. spoke. [IS THIS LIFE REALLY SO BAD, DR. MAYHEW?]
He thought about the simplicity and the peace. If he’d been asked this question three years ago, it wouldn’t be a question. Now? It was as though his body understood it was geared for more. Thinking back, Kyle realized that this was the longest time since the cataclysm that he hadn’t gained a level. He hadn’t realized until now just how much that bothered him. While he was no battle maniac, the thrill of overcoming a real challenge was something he missed.
“It isn’t a bad life, C.H.A.D.D. It just can’t be all that I’m living for.”
[PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDIES HAVE LONG ESTABLISHED THAT A SENSE OF PURPOSE IS IMPORTANT, DR. MAYHEW. I AM CONCERNED THAT YOU MAY HAVE LOST YOURS.]
“It’s not gone, C.H.A.D.D. I wish I had a better way to describe it.”
[TRY, DR. MAYHEW.]
Kyle thought about the drone’s words. They were in the ballpark, yet not totally descriptive. Even before the cataclysm, Kyle’s purpose had been healing and treating others. He loved what he did, and found meaning in it.
What am I working towards? Kyle remembered his last encounter with the presence, the mystery of how it had been pulled out of the Between. He could still feel the tremendous attacks that had rent flesh and ultimately led to the destruction of Earth. These were answers Kyle was committed to finding. At the same time, Kyle knew he wasn’t strong enough to even keep pursuing them.
“I’m just feeling stuck. I know what I want to accomplish, it’s just so far off. Honestly, I don’t even know if I’m starting in the right place.”
[YOUR PURPOSE DOESN’T NEED TO BE ONLY AT THE END, DR. MAYHEW.]
That drew a tired smile from Kyle. It wasn’t that simple, but Kyle appreciated the drone’s company. “Thanks, C.H.A.D.D.”
Several hours later, Kyle was on the way to the Collective Institute. There were multiple campuses across the Hub, though this was considered the best. The sprawling compound was nearly the size of Nierburg. Sweeping metal buttresses reached towards the sky, large windows all along the exterior of the building. It possessed transporters stationed all throughout to quickly warp from class to class, allowing for the architecture to be more ostentatious than functional. He nodded a greeting at the goblins at the security gate, who returned the gesture after a ping from his nav bracelet. Stepping onto the platform, Kyle was whisked away to his first exam.
Settling into his seat, Kyle watched as his classmates poured in. There was a sense of nervousness in the room as people took their seats, and with good reason. Success on the day’s exams would allow them to qualify for the Practicum, while failure would require an additional six months of study, which also meant an additional six months of fees. The total cost had been over two hundred thousand credits to enroll, and Kyle suspected that for much of the group this was their only opportunity because of the cost alone.
A ping on his nav bracelet indicated it was time to begin, and screens popped up in front of each seat. Kyle’s hands flashed across the screens with impressive speed, and he tackled problem after problem. The vast majority of his examinations covered Collective policies and laws – common regulations that were shared by every Collective member organization. As an independent operator, it was important to be able to apply the principles across a wide variety of circumstances.
As expected, Kyle was also confronted with faction-specific questions. The major five he felt confident in answering, though as he got into the minor groups, he was pushing his memory to its limits. There was an incredible amount of content, and there were more than a few answers where he didn’t know where to start.
Still, the hours wore on, and before he knew it, Kyle was submitting his last examination. Results would be sent to his nav bracelet in several hours, and he headed to the Institute’s training facilities for a light workout. It was designed with D Grades in mind, and offered a diverse array of different options. Kyle chose the one that had become his favorite, a chamber which sealed off and had wide variations in atmospheric pressure.
The changing environment pushed him to adapt as he went through his exercises, though more than anything it sealed the chamber off from prying eyes. C.H.A.D.D. confirmed that when it was in use even the drone’s unique abilities couldn’t see through it. Satisfied with his privacy, Kyle activated IGNITION. The pain still jolted through him as he went through the motions, though ADAPTIVE REGENERATION had gone a long way towards muting it.
The power of the skill raged through him, burning him inside as it fought against the rejuvenating energy. Kyle came here as often as he could, allowing his body to grow accustomed to his self-destructive skill. He had a long way to go before he’d be able to claim any degree of mastery, but it felt like he was building a firm foundation. He received a warning that his time in the chamber was coming to a close, and he deactivated IGNITION. He exited, waving to a familiar velgian who walked in afterward.
Kyle left the Institute and walked through the bustling district towards his apartment building. One of the strangest things about living in the Hub was that it was always light, and always in a bustle of activity. Private residences allowed for custom settings to replicate solar cycles, but the rest of the area was always moving. He was pondering what to do with his free evening, when he got a ping on his nav bracelet.
Kyle Mayhew,
We are delighted to inform you that you have passed your written examinations. You are hereby invited to participate in the Practicum Phase 1. Sessions will be hosted in regular intervals, and you are welcome to register for any within the next six cycles. Be advised that failure in any phase of the Practicum will require additional written examinations before being invited back.
-Collective Institute of Independent Licensure
Kyle yawned as he dismissed the screen he’d been reading, standing up from his cluttered desk to stretch. The next day’s exams were set to start in just six hours, and while he didn’t strictly need the sleep, he certainly wanted to at least get a nap in. Fortunately, this branch of the Collective Institute was only a twenty-minute walk away.
They had arrived in District Seven and settled into their accommodations nearly six months ago. His studies started almost immediately, and Kyle swiftly got into a familiar routine. Just like during his medical training, Kyle woke early and reviewed all his previous day’s material before eating and making it to the first lectures. He took copious notes throughout each day, aided by C.H.A.D.D. recording the lectures. Then, he would eat dinner and review the notes, organizing them by relevance and breaking down key themes before bed.
To a large extent, his familiarity with effective study habits had paid off. Many of his classmates were not academic types, and he suspected that the majority were planning to head to the Mercenary Guild based on the muscles, scars, and weapons that were so prevalent. Kyle, by contrast, was a natural student. Just six months in, he was already preparing for his final set of classroom examinations before the three-phase Practicum, while many others were on their second or third try for the course.
That’s not to say it was terribly easy. Because Kyle hadn’t lived inside the Collective, or even known of its existence, many things that would otherwise have been assumed knowledge, Kyle wasn’t aware of. Everybody else in his class came in with basic knowledge of each of the major factions, while Kyle had to learn the laws and customs of each. It was critical for any independent to have a functional understanding of the different groups that might hire them, after all.
As he did every night, he grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper, writing out the key points of each to ensure they were fresh in his mind. Kyle wanted to reinforce the cultural norms as much as he could as he prepared for his Practicum. He started with the Verdant Republic, which managed the district he was currently living in.
Verdant Republic – A collection of goblin, troll, and ogre planets with an electorate and representative rule. The higher the grade of the world, the more representation they get. New member planets have to abide by Collective and Verdant Republic regulations. They have the most extensive legal code and act as the unofficial lawyers of the major Collective factions.
Next, he moved on to the skrell, thinking of Skippy as he did.
Grey Conglomerate – A collection of major skrell businesses, primarily focused on manufacturing. Loose regulation, credits tend to speak loudest. New planets aren’t restricted to being majority skrell, their primary focus is on natural resources. They contract with outside organizations for profitable extractions.
The Grey Conglomerate reminded him of stories he’d heard about Earth before the Awakening, and he wondered for a moment if that’s where his planet would have ended up had things played out differently. The next group consisted of the tall, pale humanoids he’d seen before.
Alabaster Court – Membership is exclusive to the Velgian species. Functions as a merit-based nobility. More powerful individuals are given higher-tiered titles, with the lowest titles becoming available at C Grade. Very isolationist. Currently headed by an A Grade, with several others at the top of their organization. All are in seclusion, with the day-to-day being managed by several B Grade Regents.
It was highly unlikely that Kyle would ever be employed by the Alabaster Court, as they only rarely hired from the Guilds. In the cases where they did, they exclusively hired velgian-born. More realistically, if he crossed paths, it would likely be in an antagonistic capacity. Moving on, he thought of another strange group.
The Pillar – Made up of the Phytan species, this organization focuses primarily on terraforming and scientific advancement. They have colonial ambitions, but only for planets that are currently uninhabited. They helped design the Hub, and when star systems are moved in, they are responsible for calculating the alignment and energy reduction to ensure a smooth transition.
The floating swirls of algae had been very interesting to Kyle, and he was surprised to learn that they were the most scientifically advanced species. Each ‘individual’ was actually a collection of millions of assimilated components, all working towards a specific purpose. There wasn’t much information about their controlled systems, but apparently their B Grades would literally encompass an entire planet.
The last of the major independent factions was the Archdrake Empire.
Archdrake Supremacy – Ruled by A Grade Draconids, and the only faction with A Grades currently active and involved in Collective business. It’s a theocracy with followers from every species, and likely the most powerful force in terms of military might. Followers worship and tithe to the draconids, who in turn provide power and protection.
The Archdrake Supremacy was well-known and regarded. Unlike its peers, whose A Grades typically stayed in seclusion deep within their own territory, the draconids were involved and made occasional appearances at the Hub. Kyle suspected that their paths borrowed from their worshippers, though he didn’t note his suspicions.
Sighing as he closed his notebook, Kyle crossed the five or so steps from his desk to his bed. He grabbed a bottle of water from his night stand and drank deeply before lying down, mind still running over his studies. He’d prepared to go to bed nearly three hours ago, though he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. He’d hoped that a few extra hours of study would change that, but a feeling of restlessness set in the moment he closed his eyes. He tried to ignore it, but C.H.A.D.D. had other thoughts.
[DR. MAYHEW, I’M SHOWING INCREASED HEART RATE AND MUSCULAR TENSION. IS THE MATERIAL YOU WERE STUDYING THAT ENGAGING?]
At first, Kyle felt irritated, though that feeling faded as he recognized the drone was right. Kyle’s body was tense, and his mind hadn’t slowed down a bit.
“It’s not the material, C.H.A.D.D. I’m just… restless.”
[WHAT ARE YOU CONCERNED ABOUT?]
Despite the flat, robotic voice, it was clear that C.H.A.D.D. was genuinely worried about him. He drew in a deep breath and held it, before slowly exhaling. “The truth is, buddy, I don’t know. Everything just feels so… sterile since we moved here.”
Saying the words out loud helped to crystalize a lot of what Kyle had been feeling. He had spent nearly two years fighting for his life, the threat of the next challenge always looming over the horizon. Since their arrival at the Hub, there hadn’t been any real danger. The only thing he had to be concerned with was his dwindling credit balance, and even that would likely last for years if worst came to worst.
As if reading his mind, C.H.A.D.D. spoke. [IS THIS LIFE REALLY SO BAD, DR. MAYHEW?]
He thought about the simplicity and the peace. If he’d been asked this question three years ago, it wouldn’t be a question. Now? It was as though his body understood it was geared for more. Thinking back, Kyle realized that this was the longest time since the cataclysm that he hadn’t gained a level. He hadn’t realized until now just how much that bothered him. While he was no battle maniac, the thrill of overcoming a real challenge was something he missed.
“It isn’t a bad life, C.H.A.D.D. It just can’t be all that I’m living for.”
[PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDIES HAVE LONG ESTABLISHED THAT A SENSE OF PURPOSE IS IMPORTANT, DR. MAYHEW. I AM CONCERNED THAT YOU MAY HAVE LOST YOURS.]
“It’s not gone, C.H.A.D.D. I wish I had a better way to describe it.”
[TRY, DR. MAYHEW.]
Kyle thought about the drone’s words. They were in the ballpark, yet not totally descriptive. Even before the cataclysm, Kyle’s purpose had been healing and treating others. He loved what he did, and found meaning in it.
What am I working towards? Kyle remembered his last encounter with the presence, the mystery of how it had been pulled out of the Between. He could still feel the tremendous attacks that had rent flesh and ultimately led to the destruction of Earth. These were answers Kyle was committed to finding. At the same time, Kyle knew he wasn’t strong enough to even keep pursuing them.
“I’m just feeling stuck. I know what I want to accomplish, it’s just so far off. Honestly, I don’t even know if I’m starting in the right place.”
[YOUR PURPOSE DOESN’T NEED TO BE ONLY AT THE END, DR. MAYHEW.]
That drew a tired smile from Kyle. It wasn’t that simple, but Kyle appreciated the drone’s company. “Thanks, C.H.A.D.D.”
Several hours later, Kyle was on the way to the Collective Institute. There were multiple campuses across the Hub, though this was considered the best. The sprawling compound was nearly the size of Nierburg. Sweeping metal buttresses reached towards the sky, large windows all along the exterior of the building. It possessed transporters stationed all throughout to quickly warp from class to class, allowing for the architecture to be more ostentatious than functional. He nodded a greeting at the goblins at the security gate, who returned the gesture after a ping from his nav bracelet. Stepping onto the platform, Kyle was whisked away to his first exam.
Settling into his seat, Kyle watched as his classmates poured in. There was a sense of nervousness in the room as people took their seats, and with good reason. Success on the day’s exams would allow them to qualify for the Practicum, while failure would require an additional six months of study, which also meant an additional six months of fees. The total cost had been over two hundred thousand credits to enroll, and Kyle suspected that for much of the group this was their only opportunity because of the cost alone.
A ping on his nav bracelet indicated it was time to begin, and screens popped up in front of each seat. Kyle’s hands flashed across the screens with impressive speed, and he tackled problem after problem. The vast majority of his examinations covered Collective policies and laws – common regulations that were shared by every Collective member organization. As an independent operator, it was important to be able to apply the principles across a wide variety of circumstances.
As expected, Kyle was also confronted with faction-specific questions. The major five he felt confident in answering, though as he got into the minor groups, he was pushing his memory to its limits. There was an incredible amount of content, and there were more than a few answers where he didn’t know where to start.
Still, the hours wore on, and before he knew it, Kyle was submitting his last examination. Results would be sent to his nav bracelet in several hours, and he headed to the Institute’s training facilities for a light workout. It was designed with D Grades in mind, and offered a diverse array of different options. Kyle chose the one that had become his favorite, a chamber which sealed off and had wide variations in atmospheric pressure.
The changing environment pushed him to adapt as he went through his exercises, though more than anything it sealed the chamber off from prying eyes. C.H.A.D.D. confirmed that when it was in use even the drone’s unique abilities couldn’t see through it. Satisfied with his privacy, Kyle activated IGNITION. The pain still jolted through him as he went through the motions, though ADAPTIVE REGENERATION had gone a long way towards muting it.
The power of the skill raged through him, burning him inside as it fought against the rejuvenating energy. Kyle came here as often as he could, allowing his body to grow accustomed to his self-destructive skill. He had a long way to go before he’d be able to claim any degree of mastery, but it felt like he was building a firm foundation. He received a warning that his time in the chamber was coming to a close, and he deactivated IGNITION. He exited, waving to a familiar velgian who walked in afterward.
Kyle left the Institute and walked through the bustling district towards his apartment building. One of the strangest things about living in the Hub was that it was always light, and always in a bustle of activity. Private residences allowed for custom settings to replicate solar cycles, but the rest of the area was always moving. He was pondering what to do with his free evening, when he got a ping on his nav bracelet.
Kyle Mayhew,
We are delighted to inform you that you have passed your written examinations. You are hereby invited to participate in the Practicum Phase 1. Sessions will be hosted in regular intervals, and you are welcome to register for any within the next six cycles. Be advised that failure in any phase of the Practicum will require additional written examinations before being invited back.
-Collective Institute of Independent Licensure
