Cycle of Life

Book I: Learning Curve

Disclaimer: This story is based upon the characters and concepts of the Saber Rider and the Star Sheriffs cartoon and all characters of that cartoon are owned by New World Events Production. They are borrowed ‘without’ permission.

Chapter I: Academy

The sun shined brightly out in the dust covered road, the heat rising every second as it bounced off the graveled path, seemingly being baked in an oven. Vultures circled above the sky, waiting for any of their prey to drop dead from the heat. A lone vulture flew down the sky resting in the middle of the sun-baked road, its head moving around searching for the approaching sound.

From the corner of it’s eye, it flew back up, barely avoiding being run over by the passenger filled buses that passed through this deserted road. The hot humid air contrasted the one inside the bus, as the dry but cold air enabled it’s passengers to breath with little difficulty.

Male passengers looked outside the glass window, watching as the sights of the desert like road filled their eyes, who have seen nothing but the same desert road for the last three hours. It was pass 12:00 in the afternoon, and the heat began to penetrate through the heavily air-conditioned bus, making them feel the heat that was separated from them by cold steel.

One young man sat away from the others, writing down his thoughts on a red little book that he always kept close to his heart. His short, military cut blonde hair shined like gold as the rays of the sun landed upon them. He sighed as he stopped his writing, momentarily folding the sleeves of his blue long-sleeved shirt as he finally began to feel the heat seep through his skin.

Quickly running a hand over his hair, he begun to write again, not noticing the black-haired young man walk up to him with a smile pasted on his face. His chiseled face and brown eyes adding to his rugged but charming appearance.

"Mind if I take a seat?" The black-haired man asked, nodding at the empty space.

The blonde man looked up to him, his soulful blue eyes looked as if he was reading through the man who stood before him. Shrugging, he nodded.

"Be my guest," he said with his crisp British accent.

The black haired man smiled, nodded in thanks then took a seat beside him. He sat their in silence as he stared forward, but was intrigued by the blonde man’s writing. Turning to look at the red book the blonde man held, he inquired.

"You a writer?"

"No, not really. I just like to write down my thoughts," the blonde man replied.

"Ah," the black haired man said, then continued to watch him, finally he held out his hand, "Name’s John West,"

"Saber Rider," the blonde man replied, as he looked up, placing his red book back in his pocket, then shook the man’s offered hand, "Pleasure to meet you,"

"You know, the only reason I came to sit beside you was because I didn’t like the person I sat with for the last three hours," John said, nodding towards a fat bearded man who was playing with his gum.

"I see what you mean," Saber said as he looked where John nodded, he looked around, saw there were at least three more seats available, then continued, "There are a few more seats available, why choose to sit with me?"

"British aren’t you? Accent is a dead give away," John commented before answering his question, "Well Mr. With A British-Accent, Let me tell you why I chose to sit beside you,

"Three rows behind us is a man probably in his twenties, munching on what looks like a discarded toothpick that needs to be disposed off for health reasons with a solemn look in his eyes. By my personal judgement, a person whose so attached with a toothpick could either mean he’s plain crazy, lost someone who cooks his favorite meals or experienced a major toothache and that piece of wood is what cured him. From the looks of it, he could snap any minute now and I don’t like to be the one who will test how unstable he is,

"The other loner seated five rows in front of us is going to barf up a storm in a few more minutes unless we stop and let him breath in some fresher air, which is currently unavailable in our current location. Being someone who likes to stay clean the whole trip, I prefer not to end up as his barf bag,

"Lastly, the sucker who took the longest seat, the one in the back, seems like he’s too attached with the chair to even spare a little space for little ‘ol me,"

Saber looked at the three people whom John had ‘described’ and agreed with his assessments, and the one he had last described was a little too spooky for his taste, as the man was half-sprawled on the seat, talking to the chair, and what sounded like codling noises.

"I see what you mean. But what makes you so sure that I’m not one of those guys who looks innocent outside but is a homicidal-maniac, strangle the next person who sits down beside me, for the fun of it because of being bored in a three hour bus trip that seems to lead to nowhere?" Saber asked, eyeing the John with a serious glint in his eyes.

John seemed to consider this, remaining silent for the next few seconds before brightening up with a huge grin, "Because you carry that journal of yours and took no initiative to shake or even introduce yourself to me the moment I sat down. Well, you could have been another Norman Bates, but no homicidal maniac in history ever waited for hours on a trip to nowhere bus with no stops or fresh air to start killing those inside the bus. If you were indeed a homicidal, strangle the next person type of guy, you would have strangled me the moment I offered my hand or killed everyone once we were on the road,"

Saber gave out a rare grin, studying the man who had just sat beside him and made him smile. Brown eyes contrasted his jet-black hair that was cut in a manner that it looked long but was still acceptable enough to be considered short. With a well chiseled jaw and strong features that still made him somewhat ruggedly-handsome, Saber judged him to be a man that could easily cause trouble as well as squirm his way out of it in a second. Judging by the way he made his hand hang loosely near his hip, Saber guessed that he was used to holding a gun and shooting it without hesitation, more often then not, hitting the bull’s eye mark.

John raised an eyebrow at him then spoke, "Either you’re summing me up, which is a mark of a man who was raised to hunt or I should have picked another seat cause I judged your character wrong,"

Saber laughed again but didn’t answer his question as he looked back outside. John lightened as soon as he heard the laugh, for one could never be too sure about someone, especially a guy still well-groomed even through the hot trip towards their destination.

"We’ve got two more hours, am guessing, before we reach the base. I’m sure the driver wouldn’t stand sitting his butt of in his now hot chair without any break any more," John said then leaned back to relax.

"You’re probably right," Saber said.

John looked straight ahead as he continued to speak, "Got into some trouble back at home?"

"Excuse me?" Saber said as his head snapped back to look at the young man beside him.

"Well, I take you to be some rich young kid who is out for the first time on his own, leaving behind riches and materials beyond an average man’s dreams and a loving comfortable home to boot. So I figured, why would someone like you want to actually take the rigors of the academy unless there was something that you were running away from," John replied.

Saber studied the man beside him before answering, "Actually my friend, I’m not running away from anything. I joined this because I like to. Being a soldier defending my world was always a dream of mine, even before I could remember,"

"Well, you and me may come from different backgrounds but you got that last part right. Holding a gun in my hand and firing it just seem to come naturally to me," John answered.

"You enjoy hunting, don’t you? The thrill of looking for that elusive game then finally squeezing the trigger?" Saber asked.

"More like hunting the men who hunted the animals. I couldn’t stand hurting animals, but I could stand hurting people who hurt them. Weird isn’t it?" John replied.

"Not really. I know what you mean, animals have something in them that make more special than humans. It maybe that in animals, we hold no grudge against them, we only feel love," Saber replied.

"Yeah, maybe," John said, a distant look in his eyes, "Or maybe it’s because I saw someone beat up a deer once, just for the heck of it, and I got so sick afterwards that I vowed to defend the animals against the real "animals", us,"

"Would I be on the mark if I say that you’re a vegetarian?" Saber asked.

John offered a soft chuckle, "Even through a traumatic experience with meat, I could never live down with greens alone. Steak is still, and always will be, part of my menu,"

"Ever think that what we’re getting into will be another traumatic experience?" Saber asked.

John shrugged, leaned back on his chair, trying to find a comfortable spot, before answering, "From what I’ve hear, people who get pass this stage are either the most determined or those who enjoy pain,"

They remained silent for the rest of the trip, with John’s eyes focused at the chair in front of him and Saber looking outside, watching as the terrain went by.

Drill Sergeant Harry Collin stood in attention as he watched the dust finally settle in front of him. His eyes focused on the young men who exited one of the bus, the unit he was assigned to train and to harass until they became strong and tough. One by one, the men left the confines of the now damp bus, carrying bags that contained their only remaining possessions from home with them. Lining up quickly, the dropped their bags on the ground, as the cold stare of the heavily built Sergeant eyes them.

"You’re the most pathetic bunch of losers I have ever seen in my life! Starting from today, you are my property and I do not like to own any second hand-rejects! You will be tough by then end of this four-month hiatus or by God I will see to it that you end up working as a peeler for the cafeteria!

"I am Drill Sergeant Harry Collin, that is Sir or Drill Sergeant to you losers! I am your God, I am the thread that you balance your life in from this very moment on! You will obey whatever I say without question, and if I ask you to run, you will ask how fast. Do you get me?" Collin shouted.

"Sir, yes sir!" All of the men shouted in unison.

"Now drop and give me fifty!" Collins shouted as he watched all the men lined up hit the dirt and began to count.

"One, two, three, four, five..." They shouted.

"What kind of count is that! Follow my count, one, two, three, four, I love the marine corps!" Collins shouted, repeating it until all counted the same way.

From the corner of his eyes, Collin could see a few beginning to falter, especially one brown haired kid. Walking up to him, Collins stood, watching him as he desperately tried to complete another set but failing to do so as he hit the ground with a soft thud.

"You, stand up!" Collins shouted, as the young man stood, dusting off his clothes, "Attention!" Collins shouted as he slapped the man’s legs with his baton.

The young man yelped a bit, but did as he was told. He was obviously frightened, his eyes trying desperately to focus on the burly man that stood in front of him.

"What is your name boy?" Collins asked amidst the continuing countdown of the men who continued to do several sets of push-ups.

"David Hartley," the young man said, seeing the dangerous glint beginning to show in the Drill Sergeant’s eyes, he quickly added, "Sir!"

"That’s better plebe," Collin shouted, "Now you will give me one good reason why you can’t finish your set,"

"My arms are not that strong sir! I have a heart problem," Hartley answered.

"A heart problem? Well, my boy, now that is something. Tell you what, I’ll let you go this time,"

"Thank you sir!"

"But your friends here will have to do fifty more!"

Groans could be heard as he said this and Hartley’s eyes carried an almost pained look.

"Next time, you do your set unless you want to get into bad terms with these people who want nothing more but their share of hardships, do you here?" Collins shouted.

"Yes, sir!"

Collins shoved the young man hard, and Hartley almost fumbled, but regained his balance in the nick of time. He watched with heartfelt sorrows as Collin talked with another officer.

"I want you to pay close attention to that boy left standing. Let the others continue their sets then I want them sent off to their bunks," Collin whispered.

"Yes sir,"

Saber sat on his bunk, back against the wall as he pulled out his writing gear. He had taken the one below while John had taken the topmost bunk. He was tired with doing all of the extra push-ups that he and the others managed to get themselves into, but still, it was worth all of it. He glanced to his left, seeing a lonely David Hartley, the man who got them do extra push-ups, mooning over his bunk, looking around like a lost hen.

Hartley had a young, innocent face, with blue eyes and light brown hair. His soft stare and his well angled face added to his boyish appearance. Slouching while he sat down on his bunk, he sighed as he glanced around the unfamiliar room, a sad glint filling his blue eyes.

Saber felt sorry for him for no one seemed to be paying any attention to him and two, he seemed like he really did not want to come here in the first place. Hartley struck him more as someone who could have been a priest for their was something almost ‘angelic’ about him. Travelling ever since he knew how to walk and talk, he had met a lot of people with different backgrounds and culture, and a lot of people who were sick and dying. All those experiences he had during his travels helped him shape his own view of the life...that it wasn’t fair and that it was precious. Writing down some of his thoughts, he closed the little notebook, placing it back inside his foot locker then stared straight ahead.

A soft spank on his shoulder brought him back to attention, and he turned to find John’s upside down face looking at him from above.

"You’re pretty quite down there Saber, anything wrong?" John asked.

"No, just thinking,"

John grinned as he flopped down to the floor, standing with his head below the top bunk and his right hand resting on the rails. His brown hair was now cut in military standards, short and above the ears.

"This is just the first day my boy, why the thinking?"

Saber glanced at David Hartley who was now lying down on his bunk, both hand above his head.

"Hartley reminds me of someone I once knew,"

John looked at the man who got them into doing the extra push ups, then back down at his new found friend, "What, you feel sorry for him?"

"Yes I do. Have you seen the way the other guys are just literally avoiding him? When we were getting our gear, did you see how the others just gave him a hard time?" Saber inquired.

John stood in silence for a while before answering, "Listen, I had a brother with a heart problem before, he died because he wanted so damn hard to prove to the others that he was normal as the next person. Saber, feeling sorry for a guy won’t help him, we sometimes just have to push him,"

"To what extent?"

"My brother once told me that he wanted to do everything by himself, lift weights just like every other guy in my town. If I even showed pity, he would just get so angry that he would threaten to punch the living daylights out of me. We push him until he yields, until he realizes that he can’t do what every normal people does. He can’t push himself to the limit and not suffer any consequences," John said, a faraway glint in his eyes.

"Hartley over there knows what he’s doing, Since he joined the training camp, he knows what hardships he has to face. You heard him tell the Sergeant about his heart problem, and it sounded like one hell of an excuse to try to get the whole cake without sweating for it. We push him to do what he has to do, we’re only here to guide and help him,"

"It still doesn’t sound right to me, but we have different views regarding the matter," Saber said as he shook his head.

"Yeah, we do," John said then continued, "But just think it over Saber, I had to live with someone almost like him, but he had a different outlook in how he wanted to live,"

"Just remember John, not all people want to be like your brother. There is a whole lot of difference to pushing someone and letting them do things by themselves,"

Sounds of footsteps drowned out any further conversation as four MP’s entered the room, flanking Drill Sergeant Collins and his right-hand man. All of the men in the room stood up in quick attention, just at the edge of their bunks.

"You all have a big day tomorrow and I expect all of you to give your 150% in tomorrows drills! Inspection is at 0400 hours, Lights out!"

Collins shouted as he did a complete about face and walked out of the room, flanked by his entourage and the lights closed as soon as the men where in their respective bunks.

"We’re in for one hell of a night," John commented under his breath.

E-mail the author: Bianca Deloso