Vira Episode One

by Odette C. Bell

  The Doctor’s second-in-command arched an eyebrow as he looked pointedly at the Chief Engineer.

  The Chief Engineer arched an eyebrow right back. “Before you say that little tremor his justification for wasting yet more energy on a stronger structural shield—“

  “You do not need justification,” the second-in-command said pointedly. “You will increase the shields.”

  Though this research facility was primarily run by Coalition Army crew, Doctor Paxar wasn’t in the Army. Her second-in-command – Armpal Singh - was. And the Chief Engineer, obviously realizing she’d been given a categorical order, straightened up. She didn’t look pleased, but at least she no longer argued.

  She also ticked her gaze toward the massive windows that sat behind the Doctor’s desk. They offered an unrivaled view of the gray, barren wasteland of the moon stretching out as far as the eye could see.

  Though the Chief Engineer probably thought she was a hardened woman, she shivered. Perhaps it was a conscious move, perhaps it was subconscious. It didn’t matter.

  Because Doctor Paxar knew what caused the Chief Engineer’s wariness, even if the woman did not. It was the same thing that kept everyone in the research facility on edge. The same thing that had seen the facility’s medical bay inundated with cases of insomnia, nightmares, and sleep disturbances. The same damn thing that haunted Paxar every second of every day she remained down on this godforsaken moon.

  And what was that?

  The shadow. It permeated the rock, the dust, the crevasses, the air, everything. It was all around her, all the time, and if the least she could do was waste a little more energy needlessly increasing the structural shield in the hopes it would block some of that dark energy out, then she would do it.

  Because this shadow could and would turn minds. Apparently the Coalition higher ups were sending a superweapon to deal with it. Paxar just hoped she would get here in time.

  Vira

  She was finally free. Finally out of her prison. Not that Admiral Forest and the other select few top-level Academy staff would see it as a prison. They saw it as a protective cocoon, or maybe a vault, one where they stashed their greatest prize.

  Vira couldn’t begin to describe the rush of joy she felt as she strode through the upper level of the command building toward the hangar bay.

  She could feel air, smell a trillion different scents, sense all the movement, hear all the sounds around her.

  It was mesmerizing.

  Though technically Vira had seen the hangar bay before – in fact, she’d seen every single aspect of the Academy, no matter how top-secret – this was different.

  It was real. This wasn’t her living vicariously through her screens as Lieutenant Park had put it. This? This was her finally doing what she’d been built to do.

  Admiral Forest strode by her side, and without turning her head, Vira could appreciate that all of the Admiral’s attention was locked on her.

  Forest was scared. Though Forest was completely conversant in hiding her thoughts from Vira, Vira didn’t need to read the Admiral’s mind to know that Forest was terrified that this mission wouldn’t work. Hell, Forest was terrified Vira wouldn’t even make it to the Apollo, let alone to the second moon in the Expanse.

  Forest, just like Lieutenant Park, didn’t think Vira could control herself.

  They were both wrong.

  Vira had been doing nothing but controlling herself for the past 20 years. All that time, whether the Admirals chose to believe it or not, Vira had been nothing more than a bird trapped in a cage. A powerful bird, granted – one who could very possibly hold the fate of the galaxy in her hands – but a trapped one nonetheless.

  During all of those critical incidents, during all of those unimaginable breaches of Coalition Academy security, Vira had simply been forced to sit there and watch. At least the Admirals had allowed her that. Without the immersive holographic screens in Vira’s cage, she would’ve gone mad years before. The screens had connected her to people, even if they’d never realized it.

  Park had insisted that Vira hadn’t gone through the Academy. He was wrong. She’d attended every class, even combat classes. She’d been right there in the first week when terrified recruits met Commander Sharpe. She’d been there through first-year and second-year as recruits were turned into competent cadets. She’d graduated, too.

  She’d simply never been there in person. But she’d seen people, from lecturers to cadets, to security staff, to yes, even Lieutenant Park.

  She knew them all by name, all by face. She even thought of some of them as her friends, even if they’d never technically met her.

  So Park was wrong.

  She hadn’t lived her life vicariously through those screens – she’d connected to people in the only way the Admirals had let her.

  As Admiral Forest strode across the smooth, new floor of the hangar bay, she drew the stares of every maintenance personnel and officer on duty. People stopped to gaze at her. Why not? Admiral Forest was a hero ever since the Circle Trader incident. Though, technically, most people didn’t know exactly what she’d done. To the standard, low-level Coalition officer, Admiral Forest had simply been instrumental in protecting the Academy and ending the incident. To those in the know, she’d fought back the Force and saved Vira.

  Vira had a complicated relationship with the Admiral. In a way, Forest was Vira’s surrogate mother, not that Forest would see it that way. Forest more than anyone always attempted to correct Vira’s behavior. Which was precisely what she did as Forest stopped in front of the standard troop transport, turned, and shot Vira one last, long look.

  Though Forest always kept her thoughts hidden from Vira, she suddenly opened her mind in full. Obviously she didn’t want what she would say next to be heard by the inquisitive maintenance staff of the hangar bay. “I know I’ve told you this a thousand times,” she thought, “but I’m going to have to repeat it once more.”

  Vira knew what was coming. She stifled a sigh.

  “You want to get out there and make a difference. And you will. But for now, you must keep your secret safe. If the Force find out that we’ve let you out, there will be hell to pay. Beyond that, if the rest of the galaxy find out you exist, it will change the balance of power. The Barbarians will come after you, the Kor, everyone. I know you don’t want to hear this again, Vira, but please, for me, just listen. Trust Lieutenant Park. Follow his every order.”

  Vira didn’t reply. She couldn’t with her thoughts, anyway. Though she could send her thoughts to a telepathically receptive race, despite the neural links the Admiral wore, she still wouldn’t be able to pick them up. No, while Vira could hear the thoughts of others, she couldn’t let them hear her own thoughts. And that? Seemed to sum up her existence perfectly. Someone who was aware of everything, but someone who could not reach out and interact. So as not to look conspicuous, the Admiral was conversing with Vira in her mind, Forest was distractedly manipulating the controls of her wrist device.

  “But more than anything,” the Admiral continued, briefly looking up and making eye contact with Vira, “you must make this mission a success. You must find out every secret that moon holds. If there’s Force technology, you must gather it. And if there are enemies the Force has left behind,” again Forest made eye contact, but this time it was enduring, pleading, too, “you must deal with them.”

  Though Vira had been technically listening up to that point, now she locked her full attention on the Admiral.

  For this – this was what Vira had been built for. This mission, and any ensuing mission the Coalition sent her on, was the reason she’d been trapped in that room for 20 years. It would make up for all that loneliness. It would finally give meaning to a life that had been so trapped and insignificant.

  Though Vira knew she should attempt to remain conspicuous, she got the urge to salute.

  She’d never had anyone correct her on her salutes. Who cared if the overpowered weapon knew how to salute properly
? The only thing that mattered was if she knew how to shoot properly. But Vira had practiced. She’d practiced every little rule, every little tradition a recruit should know. Because even if no one else truly believed she’d gone through the Academy, in her heart and mind, she had. They might have seen her as a weapon, but she saw herself as a person, just like any other graduated cadet. She might’ve had far more skills than your average graduate, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was part of the Coalition, part of something bigger. And though she’d already decided she didn’t trust Lieutenant Park, she’d only accepted to go on this mission with him because he’d referenced that same concept. Maybe he’d only said it to get her on side, but that didn’t matter. Because it was a concept that Vira needed to believe in. That, fundamentally, regardless of her skills, a part of her was normal – because a part of her was a part of the Coalition.

  Before the Admiral had brought Vira here, she’d already pointed out to Vira not to make excessive contact while they were in public. Admiral Forest, after all, was perhaps the best-known face around the Academy. Suffice to say, she did not have the time to hang around with ordinary officers. And Vira – to everyone else in the hangar bay – was completely ordinary. No one would know her face. And from her physique and general appearance, she would not stand out.

  But Vira saluted. Because this was important to her.

  And she was surprised when the Admiral saluted back.

  The Admiral went against her own rule and muttered out loud, “Good luck.”

  The troop transport was loading behind them, filling with officers, ensigns and cadets who would be ferried up to the Apollo in orbit.

  “Last call,” one of the flight engineers said from the other side of the transport. “The Apollo’s on a tight schedule. If you’re meant to be on this transport, get on now. If you don’t make it, then you don’t come.”

  “Where’s Park?” the Admiral muttered to herself.

  Vira extended a hand toward the hatch to her side. “He’s already on the transport,” she said.

  She hadn’t seen him board, but that didn’t matter. She could smell him. Sure enough, a second later, he darted his head out of the transport. The hatch he was using didn’t have a ramp that led to the ground. Crew were boarding on the opposite side of the transport. This hatch was obviously just being used for maintenance purposes, probably being checked before it was sealed and the flight could take off.

  The transport was quite a large one, but that didn’t stop Park from latching a hand on the open hatch door and jumping down.

  He fell a good meter, but rather than try to absorb the shock of the fall by rolling, he simply landed solidly on his feet.

  Vira’s eyes locked on him, and he swiveled to her.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m here, Admiral,” he said, voice quick.

  Park had accused Vira of showing off back in her room when she’d floated onto her couch. But what he’d just done was worse. On the last level of the basement, in the safety of her own room, only Forest and Park had been there to witness Vira. The bustling hangar bay now stopped to stare at the renowned Lieutenant Park as he needlessly jumped from a transport.

  Vira’s lips stiffened.

  She’d been right. Lieutenant Park was the wrong man for this mission. Though he seemed to know the right thing to say when he needed to, fundamentally, he had an uncontrolled mind.

  The Admiral nodded at Park, and her neck muscles were tight. “You could’ve stayed on the transport, Lieutenant. Unless you have something to tell me,” the Admiral added sharply.

  Park shook his head. It was a smooth move. He had a reputation for being smooth, didn’t he? Though Park didn’t appreciate this, and Vira wouldn’t point it out to him anytime soon, she’d tracked his meteoric rise through the Academy on her screens. Hell, she’d even been to some of the same classes as him. So she knew full well that Park considered himself a charmer. And right now, he smiled at the Admiral. “We are good to go,” he said in that same smooth voice.

  The Admiral took a tight breath. “Then good luck.”

  She turned back to Vira. The Admiral’s gaze was conflicted. Perhaps Forest was trying to hide that fact from Vira, but momentarily, Forest’s usually considerably strong mental defenses slipped.

  Vira’s stomach kicked. In her head, she’d always assumed that the Admirals viewed her as nothing more than a weapon. A necessary weapon to protect peace, but a weapon nonetheless. But the exact quality of the Admiral’s gaze, and the few confused, swirling thoughts that Vira could pick up, suggested something different. Forest now looked at Vira like a mother sending a daughter off to war.

  The maintenance engineer responsible for scheduling the departure of the transport bellowed, “We’re leaving. If you’re not on board—”

  “Belay that order,” the Admiral spat.

  “Ah, yes, sir,” came the surprised engineer’s voice from the other side of the transport. Though he hadn’t caught sight of Forest, there wouldn’t be a staff member on the Academy main grounds that wouldn’t recognize her strict tone.

  Forest took another sigh and returned her attention to Vira. Forest did it again – looked like she was sending a daughter off to war – and that made Vira’s stomach pitch.

  “Good luck,” the Admiral managed as she gave a long, low, respectful nod.

  So much for not putting on a show.

  Vira felt the gazes of almost everybody in the hangar bay lock on her and the Admiral. While Forest’s behavior had demonstrably changed since the Circle Trader incident and her injuries, she was still a hard woman. She was still one of the most competent, efficient, and objective Admirals the Academy had. But she wasn’t shooting Vira an efficient or objective look.

  Before the scene could go on for too much longer and draw any more unwanted attention, Park cleared his throat. “Admiral,” he said carefully, finally dropping that irritating, smarmy, apparently charming and smooth quality to his voice, “the Apollo is on a tight schedule,” he reminded her.

  The Admiral appeared to pull herself together as she straightened and sniffed. “A good point. Good luck to both of you,” she said. With one last low bow, she shot Vira a lingering look, turned hard on her heel, and strode away.

  Vira turned over her shoulder to watch the Admiral go.

  “The transport can depart now,” the Admiral added as an afterthought, her booming voice easily traveling back to the transport.

  “You heard her. Everyone get on who’s going to the Apollo. Last chance,” the engineer said.

  Vira was distracted. There was more to think about now, wasn’t there? Admiral Forest did care for Vira. Vira wasn’t making it up. She didn’t have the luxury of making things up. She’d been able to read the Admiral’s thoughts – or at least the ones that hadn’t been hidden by Forest’s mental defenses.

  … Maybe she’d always been more than a weapon to Forest?

  Distracted, Vira shifted toward the open hatch. It was a meter up, but to her, that was nothing. She reached toward it. She didn’t get the chance to push up and grab it, though. As quickly as his human body could allow, Park snapped forward and snatched a hand around her wrist. He shot her a very pointed look. “You board around the other side… Lieutenant,” he added after a lengthy pause.

  “Oh,” she said. And then she followed Lieutenant Park around to the boarding platform.

  He was angry. He may have purported to have obtained some of the best mental defense scores in the Academy’s history, but he was inconsistent in his mental defenses. She could feel his frustration – sense his rising heartbeat, hear the blood rushing faster through his body.

  Vira might have just found out that Admiral Forest truly cared for her, but one thing was clear – Park did not. To Park, Vira was nothing more than an uncontrollable child. A hassle, an impossible mission, the flighty bird who’d finally been let out of her cage.

  Chapter 4

  Lieutenant Park

  Christ, thi
s was not good. She’d almost climbed up through the open hatch. While technically he’d jumped down from it, and that had been a little impressive, who knows what Vira would have done? She could’ve transported right in, cut off the effects of gravity and floated up, or simply used her incredible strength to pull the transport over and climb right inside.

  This is not good, he thought to himself once more.

  He was seething as his mind desperately tried to come up with the likelihood they would get to the Apollo without her secret being found out, let alone all the way to the second moon in the Expanse.

  And that would be when he reminded himself that he really needed to keep his thoughts in check. The Admiral had already admitted that Vira’s psychic abilities were considerable, and when matched with her ability to scan your biological condition, from your heart rate to your blood flow, it was criminally easy for her to predict what you were thinking.

  He had to pull his head in, keep his growing desperation to himself.

  Vira walked up to the first seat she saw and sat down in it. It was along the row that was reserved for the senior command staff.

  A Commander was seated beside her, and he slowly tilted his head around and shot her a pointed look.

  Vira ignored it. She seemed to be in her own little world. The interaction she’d had with the Admiral had obviously confused Vira. To be honest, Park had been surprised, too. Because the Admiral had shown real emotion. It had almost been touching.

  Park didn’t know what was going on in Vira’s mind right now, and to be honest, he didn’t care. He just had to keep her in line.

  Park cleared his throat. “Sorry, sir,” he said as he leaned down and tapped Vira on the shoulder. “She’s been off-world for a long time. Not used to transport decorum.”

  Vira didn’t react. She really was in her own little world.