by E L Strife
“I was telepathic before I was an amnesiac,” she reminded him.
Running his hands down his face in exasperation, Bennett planted his chin on them and stared at the oval shape of her door, like every bunk door on Home Station. She listened to everything. And the only dream he could remember was the one involving her. “I think the universe is trying to talk to me at night.”
His mind shuddered and clung to the pitch of his words like a tuning fork ringing amongst a sharp ensemble. The racket shook thought from his grasp. Spots spread across his vision until light faded completely. He felt himself falling, the sensation of his body fluttering away.
Quiescent crackling reminiscent of a distant campfire eased into Bennett’s ears. He turned on instinct, finding infinite black stretching around him, above, and below. Galaxies and nebula burst to life in effulgent spectrums, some clusters brighter, others dim and dying. Glyphs of gathered light hovered in the air between him and the stars. Brushing a hand through a violet symbol sent it dispersing and recollecting like beads of oil on water.
Flares of pain tapped his shoulder blades. Bennett squirmed.
“Jameson?” Someone grabbed his shoulders with force.
He gasped awake to find his head resting in the nook of Atana’s neck. Her arms laced around his body. His shoulder, nestled in her plush chest, felt delightfully warm. Her teal shield sputtered out over the surface of their uniforms.
“Protective measure. Just in case.” Her voice was soft and low, her grasp comforting. “You’ve been out for thirty minutes.”
Thirty— Bennett groaned and shivered beneath a fever. “I should go. I think I’m getting sick.” I’m hallucinating, at least.
Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“Remember anything?” Her fingers slid around his back, massaging the muscle.
“Stars. The night sky. And floating symbols.”
She worked for several minutes on his shoulders. “I do not sense illness. You’re just tense.”
Bennett struggled to breathe through the high of fading pain and the blaze of nervousness. Atana was touching him in ways Command prohibited. He had to stop her before he lost all control. Bennett, too flustered to speak, grasped her hands, stopping them with a squeeze.
Her warm breath fell down the side of his neck. “Next time, tell me outright. I can help. Sensei taught me.”
Bennett became acutely aware of how close they were. He prayed Azure wouldn’t barge in. He didn’t want to start another war that he didn’t know how to fight.
When she sat back at his side on the edge of the bed, every texture visible to Bennett liquefied into translucent layers. What he saw beneath Atana’s skin wasn’t bone or muscle. Webs of light crawled through her veins, her heart, her brain, all brightening as they linked up near the orb in the center of her chest.
Leaping up from his seat, Bennett paced, trying to shake the image from his head. Definitely sick. Physical or mental is the question. But Paramor had said he was supposed to guide the life-sparks of the universe. Bennett knew Atana’s spark was something unique. But seeing it was—disturbing.
He ached to be normal, wondered what it would be like to feel without restraint, to pull Atana against him in a world not ravaged by hatred. To know what she dreamt of at night.
Forcing out a breath at his derailment, Bennett set his jaw and snatched his leather jacket from the bathroom counter, wanting to find a private spot to collect himself before the meeting. “Thank you for saving me again. You’ve taken the pain away.”
“For the moment.”
He grabbed the door handle, but it wasn’t in him to leave her like this. She’d buried a burden as he had. He twisted to look back at her. “We have Command’s shit’s-hit-the-fan meeting. Care to walk with me? Tell me what you’re thinking about?”
She probed with curiosity, bracing herself on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been different the last week. Why?”
“I feel like your trainee now instead of your equal,” he admitted. It was the truth. But his biggest concern was his dwindling ability to protect her. The assailants were too powerful and unpredictable, the war ahead something he couldn’t quite grasp.
“We are equal, just differently capable.”
A smile touched the corners of Bennett’s mouth. “And I thought you’d be hard to work with.”
Her short laugh was timid and burdened with understanding.
Rising from her seat, Atana moved to stand before him. Body firm, her gaze lifted to his, steady but pleading. “I need you to keep a secret, especially from Azure.”
Apprehension clawed at the back of Bennett’s mind. It wasn’t like Atana to hide something from her longest friend. “You have my word.”
“I want to capture a warship.”
Chapter 3
BENNETT STOOD FROZEN, watching Atana pull her door open and walk out. It took a moment for him to get his wits back as the concept of her stealing a Kyra sank in.
He bolted after her. “You can’t be serious.”
She casually scanned the crowds. “Have you known me to be anything but?”
“No, and I suppose if anyone can do it, it will be you—maybe Azure. But how do you propose we make that happen? Are we talking steal it or enslave it?”
“Kill. Interrogate. Steal.”
Atana was precise. Bennett figured she’d already worked out a basic plan. “All right, give me the rundown of what you’re thinking.”
“Of what I remember,” she said as they hustled toward the auditorium, “I know the defense shield has two components. The upper shield protects imperials. The lower shield protects the field containers on Agutras or the Linoan fighters on a Kyra.”
They rounded a corner and descended the stairs. “The spacecraft must be coded in line with the shield so they can slip through. But—” A devilish sparkle broke through Atana’s apathetic expression. “The plasma drive cannot be. It’s physically impossible.”
Bennett snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “They can’t have a shield up when discharging plasma pulses?”
“It’s a short window, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”
He gripped her shoulder and stopped her. “What if it doesn’t work?”
“We have to try. The odds aren’t in our favor, no matter what we do.” She scanned the bustling hall junction outside of the conference room. “I’m still working on details. Along with collector modules. A few Home Station repairs. UAV, 501, and F-201 redesigns for Earth’s protection—”
Bennett squeezed her shoulder and let go. “This is why you have to take a break. You won’t be able to fight in this condition, Nakio.”
“You and I both know we don’t have time for ourselves. I sleep when it takes me. Never before.”
“What if it takes you when you’re up there?” He asked. Several shepherds pushed by them and into the auditorium for the meeting.
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” she said before turning heel and joining the others.
Bennett sighed in defeat and followed.
They sat in the middle of the top row, against the wall. Bennett drummed the armrests beneath his hands. Azure’s team and the doku—slave-pilots from Agutra—were clustered in the folding seats closer to the front stage.
A large shepherd shuffled past the knees of others. His eyes darted to the vacant cushion beside Atana. “Ma’am, is this seat reserved? The others are taken.”
She barely glanced at him. “It’s yours.”
A monolith of chiseled meteorite, the shepherd hung back, nervously cracking his knuckles. “I may—invade your space. I do not wish to make Blue Bomb uncomfortable.”
Her eyes slid up to the man. She shifted closer to Bennett and opened a palm in offering.
Bennett could see the question in her gaze. “Blue Bomb?” They’re still rolling with this?
The man pulled the seat down and took his place beside her. “It is what the troops call her—er—you.” He wheezed out an
embarrassed laugh. “Picked it up from the civilians, I hear.”
Atana arched a brow. “I have no intent to harm anyone on Home Station.”
He looked to Bennett. “My apologies. The polyphyletic shepherds make us nons a little uneasy.”
Bennett slid back in his seat. He worried, after his nightmare, he would be the one to destroy the station. “Everyone has to adapt to something right now.”
UP’s Coordinator, a statuesque man, dressed in pristine robes the colors of shadows on a cloudy day, stepped onto the raised platform in front of the filled auditorium. Behind him sat three members of Command with tablets.
Vimno, the man with puffy gray hair and gold eyes, smiled at Teek from his position between Evami and Renae.
Teek waved from the seat beside Azure. The teen was a technological prodigy, but timid as most Simmaro were. Teek and Vimno had quickly formed a father-son bond Bennett envied.
The Coordinator’s hands folded together behind his back. The chatting of shepherds and doku subsided. “We have three Kyra ships on the way. Two are scheduled to be here at the end of this week, and the final one, a few days after.”
Atana’s shoulder pressed into Bennett’s, her whisper almost inaudible. “You ever consider what all Command knows?”
Bennett tilted toward her. “About what? The invasion or the warships?”
Her breath warmed his neck in tickling whirls. “Evami is way too calm sitting up there next to Vimno. She’s one of the quieter Xahu’ré, but they all knew of the prophecy.”
Bennett eyed Atana from the side, enjoying the notion of her leaning on him for once. He wasn’t surprised Command knew. But he grew tired of dealing with the aftermath of each secret as it became public.
“Amianna, would you please tell the shepherds what you know?” the Coordinator asked, nodding toward the girl.
“Yes, sir.” She was a lithe creature, graceful in fights, and skilled in propulsion systems. A pink Primvera, which Bennett’s Technical Integrations sergeant, Tanner, had fallen for.
“There is a system of weak areas in the universe’s structure,” she said. “Think of it as a broken thread in a sheet of fabric. We call them Cugraheem, us Primes. To the doku pilots and a few others who maintain Agutra’s position, they are known as Slashgates. These gates allow for quick travel over long distances, permitting one has the device, or the Kilavi—the Elites’ spark—to open and stabilize its exterior as one passes through.
“It is how the Suanoa can consume a developed planet and its kiatna without warning. Few Orionates are left in the universe. Mirramor stay busy keeping slaves alive. Which leaves us Primvera to carry the burden of the jumps.”
“Kiatna?” The Coordinator asked.
Sergeant Tanner, typically quiet in public situations, spoke up to Bennett’s astonishment. “It’s like our word people, except it encompasses all kinds of sentient life.”
“Thank you.” The Coordinator looked back to Amianna. “You look like you want to say something more.”
The girl licked her lips. “Can I demonstrate Kilavi? I know we didn’t discuss that, but it often scares kiatna the first time it is seen. I do not want your shepherds to hesitate in this war.”
The Coordinator waved her up from her seat.
Amianna stood and slipped out of her cloak. Hundreds of magenta strands unfurled from her back like ferns. They formed a pair of arced wings and floated in a manner that reminded Bennett of jellyfish tentacles. “Suanoa can operate gates themselves but prefer to use Elites. The closer a kiatna’s link is to the universe, the more power it feeds them.”
A crackle of pink lightning ripped out from her spine to the nodular ends of her strands, where it faded.
Seats squeaked, and fabric rustled as shepherds shifted throughout the room.
She laughed softly. “Don’t worry. Primvera, specifically royal Primes like me, have exceptional control of their power. We can operate Slashgates without being plugged into an assistive device.” Picking up a water bottle from the floor she tossed it into the middle of the room. A flash of magenta light rendered the bottle into a light mist settling to the floor. A tentacle curled back over her shoulder with the rest. “My flumes are well-trained from being a perimeter guard.”
Bennett had seen the fireworks during their mutiny on Agutra as many times as he’d thrown grenades. The flash and bang were similar. But for the many who jerked back in their seats, it had to be unnerving.
“We are not to be feared,” Amianna said, her voice taking a caustic edge. “And we don’t need to be put in a machine and drained of our sparks like some Slashgate hyperdrive.” She paused for emphasis returning to her natural dulcet tones. “But we can move ships, small ones on our own. Larger ones take more Kilavi. We may be able to move Semilath through a Cugraheem despite the imperial DNA lockout if we have enough combined energy, and only if it is a last resort.” She glanced up the rows to Bennett. “Many of us may die with that level of expenditure.”
Bennett straightened in his seat. Plans are designed to protect Semilath in current orbit.
Thank you. Amianna picked up her cloak and settled it back on her shoulders, her flumes curling up under the fabric. “One last thing. If enough diete nodes get crushed or the pith strands cut off, we lose our ability to manifest Kilavi. Our flumes are a durable extension of our nervous system. Losing them is like losing fingers.”
Azure stood from his seat at the Coordinator’s request. “We are converting the control modules within each of the collectors so they will function without a connection to Semilath Agutra. We have replicators working on—”
Bennett zoned out. Technical details weren’t his thing. All he needed to know was what damage the available ships could do in which conditions, and what kinds of hits they could take.
“They should be ready in the next day or two and ready to be taken up, sun-side, to charge.” Azure took his seat, glaring back at Bennett.
“Sergeant Bennett? Can you give us an update on your plans?” Evami asked.
Bennett jerked out of his trance and pushed himself up. Evami’s reserved demeanor always came as a shock to Bennett. Her scrutinizing storm-blue eyes and a perpetually half-cocked posture created a different expectation in Bennett’s mind.
All eyes turned to him.
He still couldn’t understand Command’s decision for him to lead their defenses. He was a Field Sergeant. Other than the infiltration of Agutra, he hadn’t run a mission in space that wasn’t for training only. No one had. It’d been 150 years since the last battle occurred in orbit.
“Available space-craft, and those pending ready status—” He directed to Azure, who squinted back at him from the front of the room. “Collectors and M45s have been assigned to squadrons. Snipers will lead our pointed assaults. We will have one shield formation to deflect and protect Agutra from any plasma discharges or missile assaults. Earth is too big a target for the minimal number of vessels we have. For now, I need the pilots to familiarize themselves with the controls of their assigned spacecraft.
Renae, Command’s only human female representative, set her tablet in her lap and looked up at Bennett. Her sable hair was tied up in a bun as taut as her personality. “You don’t have time to dawdle, Sergeant. We need a list of maneuvers to work from if we will have any hope to survive this.”
Guilt coiled around the empty pit of his stomach. “War is unpredictable. We have to be ready to deviate from constructed plans.” Thinking back to their first mission, he glanced down at Atana. Her eyes smiled up at him. His lips twitched, wanting to return the gesture.
“I need all finished specs on every ship, munition, and kiatna we’ve got,” he continued. “I’ve advised we match one UP pilot with one doku. But if anyone has ideas, I welcome them.”
“Command will pair pilots today.” Evami signaled for the Coordinator to continue.
Bennett took his seat.
The Coordinator dipped his head, scanning something on the podium beside him. “UP�
��s districts are still reporting skirmishes between humans and non-humans. Krage, the Kronos-movement leader, has disappeared from our radar since the Unveiling Massacre. But his movement’s attacks on civilians have continued. We have confirmed his connection with the Linétens’ Verros. Still, we believe he is more interested in killing others than he is the Verros’s goal of catching a ride out of here on an Agutra. Either way, we must continue to watch our backs.
“Please ensure your serum and assigned gear are up to code. If you find a solution to, or information on, any of the things we have discussed, message Command. Time is one thing we do not have on our side. Thank you. Dismissed.”
Bennett stood, his seat thumping closed behind him. Atana joined him. Her attention fixed on Azure.
Arms folded across his chest, Azure studied them from below with disdain. Shepherds moved around him like a receding tide from a boardwalk post.
Atana tilted toward Bennett. “I better go see what’s bothering him. He must need me to replicate another part he didn’t plan on.”
“You noticed the change in his mood too?” he asked.
She squeezed past Bennett and started for Azure’s position. “Not hard with him.”
Bennett caught her arm. “He's possessive, and now is not the time for it.”
Atana gave him a knowing look and slipped his grasp. “I’ll be between Replication Lab and Secure Hangar Five.”
Concerned she would overwork herself, and wanting to let her know he’d always make time for her if she needed something, Bennett called after her. “Okay, I’ll be in TACSIM playing with toy Army guys if you need anything.”
She stopped and peered back at him through the mass of exiting shepherds.
He chuckled lightly. Didn’t sound desperate at all, idiot. “It’s a joke. Those are for kids. Everything’s digital now.”
To his surprise, a confused delight contorted her face. “Is that what you played with as a child?”
Bennett blushed. “Maybe.”
“I’m jealous. All I had was a knife.”
