by Greg Dragon
Two hours in, his throat was burning and the sun hadn’t seemed to move. There were still ships around him so he slipped inside a newer model of cruiser. His hope was to find the water supply. If that was damaged he would still be out of the sun and that was a positive, even if there was no water.
The cruiser was a good choice for respite. The interior was still intact and the damage—if you could call it that—had been to its FTL drive, which would have meant that it could still fly but only within a limited system. Rafian climbed below the flight panel and tugged at a tube. It broke after several tries and he put to his mouth. The oily, wet goodness of the coolant went down his throat and he drank until he felt as if his stomach would burst.
Once he had his fill, he tied the tube but kept the panel off in case he needed to drink from it again. Most ships used a variation of H2O to cool their engines. There were other properties inside of the liquid that he would regret when it came time to urinate, but necessity could not afford discrimination, and the pain he would experience was worth the sustenance that the coolant afforded.
Rafian tinkered with the controls and tried to get the power to come on. This became an exercise in futility since the crystals that powered it had been removed. He sat inside the hot ship for over an hour before deciding that he should keep moving.
* * *
“Laern, this is your last chance. What were you doing with a Geralos downstairs?” Tayden asked the young Phaser as she paced the dark room impatiently.
“She had me at gunpoint—”
“No!” Marika interrupted. “No, you’ve tried that line, you traitorous piece of schtill. You were talking to it and laughing when I caught you. AND you were speaking in its language. Tayden, do we not have a flobot down there recording the patients? Why don’t you just run it to see how he got out of his tank?”
Laern’s eyes grew wide when she said this and Maes Van Senthyn—the Geralos that occupied his mind—knew that if those recordings were played he would be killed immediately. He searched his mind for a distraction, something to delay Marika’s suggestions so that he could find a way to escape. “Aren’t we under attack?” he tried.
“Your army has been routed, traitor. Open your filthy mouth again without mine or the commander’s permission and I will cut you open. Tayden, flobot?”
Tayden Lark nodded, then shot a look of disappointment at Laern. “I vouched for you and you continue to make things hard,” she said to him. “If you’re guilty in even the smallest way, you better hope that Rafian doesn’t find out about it.” She touched Marika on her lower back and the women left the room, leaving him to hang by his hands in the empty interrogation room.
“Marika, are you certain?” Tayden asked as they climbed the angled walkway up to the holding cells beneath the Phaser agency.
“What’s with you guys and your loyalty to that recruit? First I have Val, who damn near sabotaged my attempt to arrest him when I killed the lizard. Then here you are asking me a third time if I’m certain. Do you think I make it a habit of second-guessing members of our order? Do you forget that I was a member of a much harsher guild of specialists for most of my life? I have no—”
“Come on, Marika, it isn’t—”
“No, let me finish, Tayden, because I’ve had it up to here with you all defending him. He was a hero, I get it, but so were we, a thousand times over. He managed to stick with Vallen during the Crak-Ti massacre; I don’t take that away from him. But the Geralos corrupt minds. They’ve done it for centuries. Just because that boy calls himself a Phaser does not mean that his mind is strong enough to avoid corruption.”
Tayden Lark looked visibly sick and she stopped and turned to Marika to face her.
“I’m sorry, Marika, but I recruited him. I took a chance on him since his records were marginal, but I saw a lot of potential and we needed Phasers. For me to hear that I promoted a weak-minded man into our ranks is the ultimate failure. Maybe I’m not ready for that and that is why I keep on asking. Laern has had a spotty record even here in the Phaser agency. Schtill, I’ve already caused us to lose the Supreme Commander, for this to be—”
“Did you hear that?” Marika asked, placing her hand on the commander’s chest. She pushed away from Tayden and ran back to the door of the cells to gain the hatch that would lead back to where Laern was hanging. “THYPE!” she screamed with frustration and Tayden ran after to see what happened.
When she got back inside the room, Laern was nowhere to be seen. The chains that had held him had somehow been undone, and a vent high in the corner of the wall had been opened to allow his escape. She looked over at Marika, wide-eyed, expecting her ire, but Marika merely shook her head to show her disappointment. As Tayden fired up her comm to warn the rest of the compound, Marika Tsuno sprinted to the wall, bounced off of it towards the vent, and pulled herself up to pursue the traitor.
She was inside and pulling herself through as she tracked his sweat. This wasn’t the first time she’d gone after a mark through a tight crawlspace. She was the tiniest of her assassin’s guild, and many of the marks that had been assigned to her had been experts of espionage and escaping. She had pulled herself through drains, catacombs, and caves. It was always an exercise of mental fortitude, and she had hoped that her days of crawling would be over when she accepted Rafian’s invitation to be a Phaser.
Rafian. She thought of the tall, dark figure who had snuck into her room while she slept that fated day. He had slipped through the guild, killed several of its members, and found her to make his offer. They had become many things since that day and she regretted none of it. But now he was missing, and she wondered if she would ever get the chance to tell him how she truly felt.
Their connection had been one of silent understanding, two killers that operated out of instinct more than words. Now as she crawled she thought about how grateful she was to him for bringing her in to the Phasers and introducing her to Marian. Her life had a meaning now that went past blood, money, and a killer’s notoriety. She felt as if she had a family, and a lover/sister who cared for her beyond rank, duty, and membership.
She and Marian had crossed the line on many things when they had gone to Luca, and she wanted to let Rafian know. She wanted him to hear it and accept it so that she wouldn’t have to keep any secrets from him. The VCAs were the only people who knew who the real Marika Tsuno was. They accepted her, flaws and all, and she had shared every part of herself with them. Now there was a traitor threatening to hurt the new family that she loved so much, and she would not rest until she stopped him.
Her tracking brought her to the exit vent and she peered down it carefully before sliding through. It was the kitchen area of the jail, and she followed his tracks, which took her out and around to the same slope that led up to the agency. She climbed the halls, opened the door, and slid past the healing tanks to the cloning area where—
Marika’s heart sank when she saw the cloners, or what used to be the cloners as they were now damaged beyond recognition from what she could only assume was some sort of blunt weapon. She quickened her pace and turned on her comm, calling for Marian who answered immediately.
“Rhee, we have a situation.”
“I heard …”
“Well, the cruta’s out and he’s wrecked our cloners, so things are about as scary as they can get for us right about now.”
“Our cloners? Thype! Are you joking? Find that bastard. I am putting every single Phaser and marine on his trail right now.”
* * *
After a day of walking through the arid desert, Rafian VCA saw a green outline on the horizon. At first he thought that it was his imagination, but he needed it to be real, so he decided against scavenging the starship to pushing on towards the green line.
The sun had gone down and the temperature dropped so he quickened his pace while taking an occasional swig from the bottle of coolant that he had taken for the journey. He felt broken, dirty, and exhausted, but in the back of his mind he knew t
hat stopping would be suicide so he pressed on towards the green.
Overhead, a number of alien birds had begun to circle. Rafian assumed that these birds were not used to living creatures surviving in the desert and were holding out in case he toppled over dead, at which time they could swoop in to feast. It was either that or the birds were predators waiting for an opportunity. He had no las-sword or pistol so he hoped that his former assumption was the one that would be true.
Still he kept on walking and the birds kept on circling until he was walking along through the blackest of nights. With no weapons and no place for cover, Rafian began to regret his choice to keep on walking instead of sleeping inside the husk of the starship. His legs were numb and the night air was the type of cold that demanded all of his attention, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
Rafian hit a wall of exhaustion but looked up at the starry sky, hoping that if he stopped, the birds—or whatever they were—would not swoop in to attack him. He slowed to a stop and they were on him; not birds like he assumed they were, but a form of flying catlike creature with razor claws and leathery skin that extended into wings.
He swung his fists at them since his legs wouldn’t cooperate, but they kept on diving in at him, swiping pieces of skin as they did. He caught one by the wings and broke them violently, and then hurled the wounded creature to the floor. The others doubled their efforts but Rafian fought valiantly, and when the cats saw that their numbers were dwindling they took to the air to circle him from a distance.
Rafian felt his consciousness going and though he could die and clone—which would be the quickest way back to Zallus—something inside of him warned him not to attempt it. The need to live overtook the weakness of giving up and he looked towards the horizon and jumped, teleporting in the way he had learned to do without using the crystals.
The world went dark and became a blurry version of itself. He appeared at the edge of a lush garden, and in the distance he saw the lights of a city. A number of vessels were hovering above it, their lights illuminating the gardens and the desert around it. Rafian thought that he would be safe that close to civilization so he crawled to a grassy clearing bordered by beautiful white flowers and rolled onto his back to catch his breath.
09 | Principal’s Office
THERE IS SOMETHING about motion that comes with sleeping on a high bunk near the bulkhead that separated the Rendron’s female cadet dormitory from the male. Rendron had no cadets currently, so the dorms were vacant. The destroyer’s ongoing battles since the war on Meruda had made it impossible to bring children onboard.
Constance and Phimanila had been a part of the last graduating class onboard the Rendron and although there were plans to renew the program, the cadet area had been left abandoned and unsupervised. So Constance ITO began to sneak out of the officer’s quarters to sleep in her old bunk bed whenever she felt haunted.
There had been so many battles, so many arguments throughout her career, and the memories seemed to only show up whenever she wanted to sleep. She was her own worst enemy, and there was nothing that she didn’t retrace over and over in her head. Constance was never good enough for Constance and her insecurity had begun to get the better of her. But inside the dorm room was peace; she could be little Connie again. Bright-eyed, loved by all of the senior officers, and popular with the other cadets, even though she offered little in the way of conversation.
She awoke with a start after what seemed like an entire lifetime of dreams and felt around beneath her pillow for her wrist watch. When she touched its underside the screen lit up and the time hovered above its surface in the form of floating lights.
“That can’t be right,” she said when she saw the glowing dots. It was indicating that she had slept an hour past the time that she was expected on the bridge. She couldn’t believe her misfortune; there was no way she could have slept through her alarm.
Angry and confused, she swung her legs off the side of the bunk and dropped to the floor with a practiced ease. She touched a panel near the door and the pitch black room became illuminated by the tubes of light that ran along the ceiling.
Why haven’t they called me? she asked herself as she pulled on her uniform. Then she scrambled to a mirror to fix her hair.
Deep amber eyes stared back at her through a round, pretty face littered with tiny freckles and lined with worry. “Keep it up, Connie, and you will be air locked. How stupid could you be to sleep through your alarm?” she muttered before spinning on her heels and storming out of the dorm.
All eyes were on the XO when she walked on to the bridge. Cilas “Rend” MEC was in the center, looking over the galaxy map, and the rest were either whispering questions about Constance or averting their gaze whenever she looked at them. Phimanila shook her head as a warning when their eyes finally met. It was a sign that made Constance’s heart drop to her feet.
“Welcome to the bridge, Connie,” Rend said. “Did you get enough rest from the battle?”
As Constance began to explain herself, Rend put up his forefinger to let her know to remain quiet. His features were soft, calm, and relaxed, but Phimanila’s warning was sound; he was not in a good mood. He walked up to Constance, leaned in, and spoke so quietly that only she could hear. “Go back to sleep, Connie. When you've gotten an ample amount of rest and feel the need to resume your duties, contact Janessa to schedule a meeting. We are on red alert with the lizards, and every officer here is running on fumes. You are in that uniform because you are meant to lead. You haven’t been convincing as a leader as of late, have you?”
Constance felt her face get hot and then a painful lump was present in her throat. She glanced past him to Phimanila who stood frozen in fright as she in turn read her face. Constance bowed deeply and then turned around to leave the bridge. She needed to get to a place where she could scream, but that was a journey that would take her down several hallways littered with people. Why does there have to be so many hallways? she lamented. Why does the bridge have to be so far away from my quarters?
She quickened her pace and steeled her nerves against the pain. She had done enough to her reputation; it wouldn't do to have stories circulating about how Rend had sent his weak XO to her room, crying.
Weak XO … the phrase echoed inside her head and she hated it. Weak XO was not what she knew herself to be. She had seen tours on Meruda, raided several Geralos frigates, and rose through the ranks on the toughest military ship in the Alliance. Not since Hellgate had a female of her rank been onboard Rendron. Yes, weak was not a fair assessment.
Should I ask for a transfer? she wondered. Will Rend approve it, or will he call me a coward and force me to stay? Never in her life had she anticipated being in this position.
A weak XO would be inside of her bedroom crying into a pillow, she thought and got up to wash her face. She thought about her history with Rend, how he had pinned the medals on her chest not even a year ago Vestalian time. He was the one who had chosen her out of a large group of soldiers, each with a resume that bordered on legendary. He had seen something in her; this she knew because he had said as much.
When she remembered how she had attained her position all thoughts of running departed from her mind. She took a deep breath and put back on her uniform, then left her room to find the office of Cilas “Rend” MEC.
When she got to Rend’s office, she expected to see other officers waiting to talk to him but the only person inside of the waiting area was Cilas’s yeoman, Janessa.
Constance marched over to her desk and forced a smile on her face. She wondered if Janessa knew about the incident on the bridge or the fact that Rend was upset with her. The Casanian woman looked up at her with a smile but her facial expression revealed the fact that she was preparing for some sort of confrontation. Outside of well trained professionals like the Phaser’s Marika Tsuno, Casanians had a hard time concealing their emotions due to their large black eyes and smooth skin. Constance read Janessa like a brilliant, flashing sign, so the
question of whether or not the woman knew was immediately answered.
“Hello, Miss ITO,” Janessa said as she got to her feet, “are you looking for the commander?”
“Hi, Janessa. I told you to call me Connie. We all grew up here so uniform or no uniform, we don’t have to play at the formalities. And, yes I am here to see Rend, if he’s available. If he’s not I don’t mind waiting. However long it will take, I will wait for him.”
Janessa’s features softened and she checked her computer to scan Rend’s schedule. “I’m sorry, Connie, he’s not due back for quite some time. We’re talking four hours from now, 0200 Vestalian time. If you want, I can send you a chime at 0130 so that you can come back, but—”
“Thanks, Janessa, but I will wait,” Constance said. Four hours would be just enough time to rehearse the talk that she would need to have with Rend to broker a second chance from him. She still saw her offenses as being trivial compared to the great accomplishments she had made throughout her career, but Rend was a man who demanded perfection at every level and she had proven herself to be too human.
The time passed quickly, the way it always seemed to do when facing a tough conversation that has to happen. Officers came in and out of the waiting room to schedule meetings with Rend, and most of them stopped to give Constance their support. It was good to know that so many people still respected her, and it strengthened her resolve while she waited.
When Rend finally appeared it was as if he sucked all of the oxygen out of the room. Janessa’s shoulders tensed up and the few soldiers seated near Constance stopped talking in order to regard him. The big man looked at them all and nodded but he seemed pleasantly surprised that Constance was there.
