by Ciara Knight
Gripping the special sidearm he’d constructed for me, I had a gut feeling Penton would once again save us all from this hellish and losing battle with one of his ideas. But knowing Penton hated being the center of attention, and not wanting to send him running from the bridge, I sent a message to my father through his open channel.
Ask Penton to share his thoughts. He’s got an idea. I see a Penton Special on the horizon. Trust me, he can save us all.
I heard his gun misfired.
Mart sabotaged that weapon, I shared.
Why?
Long story. Now isn’t the time.
Good point. “Corporal Nezan,” Father called without facing the scared young man.
His eyes darted to mine and I averted my gaze. Busted.
He straightened to attention. The cuffs of his pants rose high enough to show his mismatched socks. Poor Penton. They probably didn’t have anything in his size back at the Arc. Heck, he was the boy with no last name. Nezan, Neumarian for unknown, had been given to him for military purposes. I’d been so caught up in my own mess that I never thought to check on him.
“Yes, sir,” Penton said nervously.
“I hear you are a weapons expert.”
“I’m not—”
“Are you saying my intel is faulty, son?”
“No, sir. I just meant—”
“This battle is going south quick. We need your expertise,” my father urged him.
“G-got any P-penton Specials for large aerial battles?” Raeth smiled with pride, nudging him to accept his brilliance.
“I’ve been working on something, but it’s only experimental,” Penton warned.
Harrison paused, still facing the front, his hands on his hips.
Trust him, I spoke through my thoughts to my father.
“I believe it’s time for us to take a chance.”
Penton fidgeted with his belt, hiking up the holster hanging too low on his hips. “There’s one problem.”
“What?”
Penton let go of his belt, letting it sag, and faced my father. “All our ships must land, or be a minimum of several hundred meters away from the battle.”
“That would leave the council unprotected.”
“Yes.” Penton stated, without further explanation.
“How long will it take to deploy your weapon?” my father asked.
“Only a matter of minutes for it to power up, but I have to be on the ground to deploy it.”
“Wh-what?” Raeth nearly fell out of her chair.
“It’s the only way, and I’m the only one with the knowledge to set off the weapon.” Penton argued.
“Will it harm you?” I asked, ignoring the hustling of battle all around us. My concern rested on my best friend’s fear-coated gaze locked on the man she loved so dearly.
“No. It won’t harm people, only machines. I’ve not yet figured out how to launch it from a moving ship without setting it off and causing the craft to fall out of the sky itself.”
“You c-can instruct someone from the com,” Raeth offered.
Harrison turned to the com operator who shook his head. “Not a good idea. Communication with the ground is spotty at best.”
“You c-can speak with your m-mind,” Raeth tried again, her eyes pleading with my father.
“No. I’m unable to penetrate the remaining mist lingering on the ground. If the emperor sets off any more of those blue mist bombs, we’re in trouble. We can’t send a Neumarian down. It has to be a human, a human that knows how to operate the weapon.” He maintained the posture of General Bellator, but spoke in my father’s softer voice. Raeth had worked her charm on him at some point, for him to take the time to elaborate on his orders.
Raeth rocked then turned to her station. “Remember, you have to p-put me back t-together.”
Penton’s shoulders slumped and he moved to Raeth’s side. “Nothing will happen to me. I have you to come back to, and that’s all the armor I need.” He stepped back and nodded. “I’ll prepare the device and go to the docking bay.”
“You’ll need a p-pilot.” Raeth hopped up on her one leg.
“No, Corporal Arteres. I can’t risk you with the mist. Ask Pilot Windslow to make the jump to the surface with you. He’s one of our best human pilots.”
Penton nodded, turned on his heel with a dramatic about-face, and marched to the lift, taking Raeth’s heart with him.
I wanted to comfort my friend, but we all had a job to do. Putting aside thoughts of Ryder, trusting the council to keep him safe, I kept watch for more suicide fighters. One of the pilots manning the controls sopped the blood away from his eye with a rag and took reports from the navigator at his side, who operated her controls with one arm, her other hanging limp at her side.
Open a channel between Raeth and I. SB-06 can’t take much more damage. I’ll call out the craft she’ll compensate with coarse alterations. I requested of my father.
His father’s gaze traveled over me, before he returned to the captain’s chair. It’s about time. You back with us now?
Yes, I get it. Emotions buried like a good soldier, time to fight and save your ass.
His shoulders and back shook twice, but I heard his chuckle in my mind. Watch the language, young lady.
Really?
I had to say it once since I never had a chance to when you were young.
Point taken. Let’s get out of this mess first then you can try to parent me all you want.
My father pressed buttons on the side console of his chair. Sounds like a plan.
The banter didn’t feel forced like our usual conversations. Perhaps that was a step in the right direction.
Raeth, can you pilot? I wasn’t giving her a choice really. I knew she needed something to focus on, besides Penton’s dangerous situation.
Yes. Let’s clear the sky.
Just what I was thinking. The less fighter pilots the more chance Penton has to succeed and stay safe.
We’re ready, I announced to my father, disregarding the fact he’d already heard our conversation.
Harrison leaned forward in his chair. “Ensign Maloy and Barkok report to the mess hall for treatment.”
“Sir, with respect, we’ll remain at our post. You need us,” the shorter man, Ensign Maloy replied.
“I have it covered. Go.”
The two at the center console glanced at each other then rose, Ensign Maloy wavering. Barkok steadied him then helped him to the lift. Raeth already controlled the ship from the terminal.
“Sir, instruct our own fighters to remain away from our ship,” I said. “If one needs to board, give me warning. I’m taking down anything metal in the sky close enough that the mist won’t interfere.”
“Understood. Give the order.” Harrison told the com operator.
I sat back and connected with my gift, no longer scared of the power within me. Even if I melted a few things on our own ship, it would be minimal damage compared to what those fighters did.
At first, I couldn’t connect. The mist’s interference kept me limited. The heat within that small corner of my body where my gift bubbled finally zapped to my fingertips, out my body and clipped a plane.
Raeth, port side. My voice sounded shrill in my own head. Calming my speech to a moderate tone, I said, I can’t give exact coordinates with this static in my head.
Just tell me which s-side. We’ll do our best.
Another plane broke through the mist and I shot a boulder of fire at it, disintegrating it into dust seconds before it rammed our stern.
“She’s amazing, she’s definitely a Bellator,” I heard Fallon say from behind me. He’d returned from helping them carry bodies from the bridge to the mess hall, but I didn’t respond, remaining focused on the world outside our craft.
“Corporal Bellator, straight ahead,” Fallon said. “A clear spot through the mist. There. You see the emperor’s docking bay? Those fighters have one purpose, launch and ram. They have limited maneuverability and fuel, for
cing them to return to the ship if they miss the target and make another run. Can you disable it?” Fallon asked.
As if my gift split in two, my right hand targeted a fighter at our starboard side while my left concentrated on the emperor’s docking bay.
My fingers drew power from the edge of the console, melting the metal and drawing more power. I pinpointed the spot that would cause the most damage to the Emperor’s ship and shot fire to the bay door. My power weakened. Split between two areas, there wasn’t enough energy intake to compensate for the output.
With a glance at the viewfinder, useless since one of the fighters rammed the cameras, I grabbed hold with both hands and drained it to slag. Ignoring the fighters outside, I shot the energy straight to the docking bay. An eruption of smoke, orange and blue flame filled the entire side of the ship.
The energy had been so powerful it shot me backwards, knocking Fallon to the ground. He recovered and propped me back into my seat. The ship banked a hard right and rose.
“Pilot Windslow requests disembarkation.”
“Granted.” Harrison replied.
Raeth swung the SB-06 around and lit the sky with gunfire before she steadied and swooped down closer to the ground. Still connected, I felt the small craft leave our ship, as if a piece of my hair was yanked from my scalp.
Two fighters gave chase, ducking in and out of the mist, too close for a precision zap without risking Penton’s ship. I held my breath, willing him to land safely. Once he did, I’d blast those metallic beasts from the sky.
My hands shook.
My head ached.
My body longed for a break.
But I continued to fight, taking down three more fighters.
“He’s landed,” the com operator relayed to the bridge.
“Hvala bogu,” Raeth muttered. I didn’t need to understand Neumarian to know she was relieved.
Harrison slammed his palm down on his armrest. “Call all fighters back and get us out of here.”
Mist faded with the swirl of our engines, allowing a clear view of Penton’s ship just as one suicide fighter nosedived into it, sending a plume of smoke into the sky.
The com operator immediately swiveled to Raeth. “He made it out. A message got through just before…”
Raeth nodded. It wasn’t until she turned toward me that I saw the tears streaking down her face. I could tell she struggled to stay with us, her mind longing to check out, to not deal with this world. Her psyche had crashed along with Penton’s plane. But she was a soldier and she fought to maintain control as she maneuvered the plane.
You’re doing great, I encouraged her.
She turned back to the monitors and swung by the emperor’s ship. It turned to give chase, but the large breach in its side slowed it down. We were so close, close enough that I could have easily finished off the massive ship, but without drawing more energy from other parts of the SB-06, I was too weak. Even the Triune’s powers had limitations.
We continued our evacuation of the area, stalling to board a few fighters in the vicinity. The rest of our forces were directed to land as far away as possible.
Forced to leave Penton, our small fighters, and the council behind didn’t sit well with Father, Raeth or I, but it was the only chance we had to take the emperor down and offer us a fighting chance for the future.
Chapter Four
Moving to an unmanned console at the back of the bridge, I cremated the poor station to access just enough energy to take down the few remaining suicide fighters tailing us. Hot molten goo slid to the ground in a bubbling heap.
“Let it go before you drain energy from the hull.” Father warned. Forced to sit silent and wait for a report, sidelined from the fight, was torturous. To think, just a few months ago, all I wanted to do was live in peace in the make-believe Resort Territory implanted in my mind. Now, fighting was in my blood. My desire to protect those I loved and eliminate the powers that enslaved our people invigorated me.
Fallon sat by my side. “You’ve grown up a lot in only a few months. Your ma would be so proud, and your pa already is. He’s not the touchy-feely kind of guy he used to be, but I can tell.”
“I know you’re trying to distract me, but I promise I won’t melt anything else.”
He chuckled and patted my hand. “No, dear. I’ve just wanted to chat with you since my rescue. There hasn’t been any time. As a good friend to your father, I wanted to let you know that man did everything he could to save you from Mandesa.”
“I know.”
“Do you? He was crushed when you were taken, but he knew you were safer there than anywhere else. As an asset to Mandesa, you had a chance to survive, as his daughter you would’ve been hunted down and murdered in your sleep.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever completely understand his choice, but I respect it and that’s progress.”
“All ships retreat,” the com operator ordered the code for Penton to execute his weapon.
We all held our breath in anticipation. The operator nodded and a cheer rang from the few remaining crew members on the bridge.
Father snarled at them in warning that the fight wasn’t over, and the bridge fell silent.
Trust me. Watch Penton, he’s proved himself time and time again.
He’s perfect. Raeth’s internal thoughts amplified into my head. My heart warmed at the fact she’d found a little happiness in this crazy world.
Oops, apparently Father left our connection open.
Yes, for now, Father answered.
The com operator nodded. My legs protested from all the energy I’d expelled without replenishing, not to mention the stress and emotional turmoil of the last day. I slid down the wall and pulled my knees to my chest. There was nothing left for us to do, but wait.
Once clear of the fight, Raeth turned the ship to display the battle on the front view.
Fallon joined me. “You three were destined to be together.”
“Us four,” Raeth called from the front. “I know Penton isn’t a member of the Triune, but—”
“There is more to the prophecy,” Fallon stated.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You realize the claim of the Triune is real.”
I snickered. “Yes, I can’t deny that anymore.”
“That leaked from our council during the war, but we were able to keep the rest of the intel to ourselves. You see, one of the members of the Neumarian Council could estimate future events based on current trends. It’s sort of a statistical prophecy in a way, but deeper than that. The one who had the gift also channeled more than just facts. Emotions, psychology, the art of body language and behavior play a part. All the information was churned up and a prophecy was spit out.”
“So, what’s the rest?” I asked.
“Penton must be the protector of the Triune.” He nodded to Harrison and a click sounded in my head. Fallon leaned close and whispered. “The one who will risk his life and die to save the Triune.”
I cupped my hands over my mouth to stop the gasp from reaching Raeth’s ears. My pulse thrashed at my neck. I slowly lowered my hands to my side. “You think he’s going to die out there, don’t you?”
Fallon clasped my hands in his. “Yes.”
Chapter Five
My chest tightened with grief. Raeth had struggled, yes, but she’d also overcome torture, psychological issues, and more pain in her life than anyone I’d ever met. If Penton died, her ability to function in any capacity would cease.
I struggled to control the tremors tearing through me. “I refuse to believe it.”
“I’m not the prophesier,” Fallon rubbed his palms down his thighs. “You may be right. However, this is a deduction based upon the number of times he’s saved you three.”
“What did the prophesy say? Exact wording.”
He flicked a piece of debris from his pants. “A human who is a friend of the Triune and loved one of them, will be their savior.”
“Okay. He’s our
savior. But that’s different from him dying to fulfill his destiny.”
Fallon sighed, “There’s more to the prophecy. Your father wants to protect you, but has reluctantly agreed for me to share this.”
My attention bounced between the raging war being fought in the distance through the front screen, the love of my life trapped in the blue mist and hopefully being rescued, and this new information. I braced myself for more horror. Part of me wished to remain ignorant. Yet, I’d fought so hard for the truth over the last year, now wasn’t the time to hide from it.
Teeth clinched, I nodded.
“So far, the seer’s been right on most counts.”
“Most?”
“There was one time, one discrepancy, but we believe he deliberately mislead other members of the council for their protection. Everything else has occurred as foretold. The rise of an all-powerful person based upon lies. The separation of a commander and his daughter. The genocide of Neumarians. The enslavement of those Neumarians left. The wretched desolation humans live in. The Neumarian council shattered into three groups. One group would be beheaded, another would become betrayers, and the third would be forced to live with the pain and knowledge of all that transpired. Unsure of who on the council could be trusted, only specific pieces were shared. By the time any of the prophecies came to fruition, it was too late. The seed of doubt had grown into absurd accusations, kangaroo trials, and swift executions.”
“You and my father were in the group of the survivors.”
His hand covered mine as his gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes, a fate worse than beheading.”
I squeezed his fingers. “I’m sorry you had to live through all that, but I’m happy you two survived. I believe seers aren’t God. They’re guides. You were shown a possible future. The tragedy is that people believed it unchangeable. The past is finished, the future unwritten. I refuse to believe—in fact, I reject that we are unable to affect future outcomes.”
