by Maya Kane
For the first time ever among our crew, there was a sense of mutiny; of disagreement. None of us cared how much the ship was worth—we saw the seconds ticking past and knew those engines weren’t going to power back up. I looked over at Athena and caught her eye. Something passed between us. I saw it in Danni too. We turned and ran toward the escape pods, never looking back.
My mind had raced with the possibilities of what might happen if they fixed the engines and Captain Grant reported our treason. I changed my mind several times in those few seconds, but there was nothing I could do. My body seemed to have a mind of its own. I guess deep down I knew there was no way we were getting those engines running in time.
I strapped myself in and hit the release button. My pod burst from the side of the ship with a sort of popping sound. And then the ground beneath me lit up just as my parachute lifted me higher and higher into the sky.
And all I could think of was that command didn’t help us. Whatever about the engines, they didn’t guide us to base like they should have. Even Commander Jessop, who was more like a father to me than my own father had been. Radio silence. That scared me more than the engine failure.
As my pod floated back to earth, I tried to figure out what could have happened in the time since I had last spoken to Commander Jessop. I couldn’t remember how long it had been, but it could only have been a matter of days. A week at most. But I drew the only conclusion I could—something had happened and the base had been evacuated. It was the only possible explanation I could think of. Why else would they abandon us like that?
Kate blinked. She’d been trying to avoid thinking about the next part. But she knew she couldn’t do that forever. She needed to face facts—even if that meant acknowledging that everything she had ever believed in was bullshit.
I opened the door of my pod expecting to see an abandoned base. But that’s not what I saw. Commander Jessop was waiting by my landing site with some of the ground crew, all of them in hazard suits. Commander Jessop. My godfather and the closest thing to family I’d had since I was a kid. The smoldering wreck of the Pelagon was visible in the distance behind him.
I opened my mouth to question him; to find out why he’d abandoned us; to find out what the hell had happened to our engines. I stared into his eyes looking for answers but they were like chips of ice. Cold. Empty.
I followed him into the medical unit, still expecting him to explain. All I wanted to know was why. Why let us just fall out of the sky?
But he said nothing. We walked here, our little procession. Me in my space suit; them in their hazards. It was silent except for the swish of plastic.
He closed the door on me; didn’t answer even one of my questions. I’ve been alone since. I was so excited about eating real food and having a beer. About wearing something that wasn’t a cumbersome spacesuit. None of that matters now—I’ve barely touched the steak dinner they delivered to me.
I don’t know where they’ve taken the others or even if they survived the crash landing. Athena and Danni, I mean. I saw what happened to Captain Grant and the crew. Nobody could have survived that.
Kate sighed and shut the notebook. There was nothing left to say. There was nothing left to do except to wait. She could try and make a run for it, but she knew that would have been pointless. The first door to her room was open, but as soon as she got two steps outside she’d reach a locked steel door that was several inches thick with a narrow slot toward the bottom for passing food trays in and out.
She lay back against the pillows and reached over to the nightstand for the note that had come with her food tray. She recognized the handwriting. She’d seen it on countless birthday cards and notes. It was as simple and to-the-point as ever.
A lot to explain.
Will visit the moment the priod scans come back clean.
She shook her head. As explanations went, it was possibly the most pointless one ever. It explained nothing. But when she stared at the words, she began to read between the lines. Commander Jessop’s writing was usually so firm it almost cut through the page. This was definitely his handwriting, but it was lighter. Softer. She closed her eyes. It had been written by someone with shaking, uncertain hands.
That wasn’t the commander she knew.
What does this mean? she wondered, pacing across the room to the tiny window. She would have tried to break through it if she hadn’t known it was made of special toughened glass with unbreakable fibers running through it to prevent anybody from getting out. She stared into the desert sunshine.
Commander Jessop wouldn’t have just abandoned us. But what other explanation is there? He was at base. The base wasn’t evacuated. So why didn’t they help us?
Kate frowned and glanced to the right. She’d been distracted by a flash in the distance. At first, she thought she was imagining it, but then she saw it again. Hurtling toward her was a huge ship hewn from a gleaming metal that reflected the flames that shot from its side. Kate stared transfixed. She had encountered many alien ships in her time on Kanaven, but she had never seen one like this. Certainly not in such a twisted state.
She shivered as it hurtled to the rocky ground and burst into flames. There was nothing on earth of value to aliens. There was nothing on earth of value to humans—that’s why they had claimed as many uninhabited mineral-rich planets as they could. Otherwise, there would be no fuel for heating or energy. Yet here was an alien ship. What was it doing there?
And the thing that rattled Kate most? There was a large gash in the side which the flames had hidden, where it had obviously been struck by some kind of missile. She shivered and stood on tiptoes to get a closer look. Something out there had attacked that alien ship—and it hadn’t used any human weapon Kate had ever seen. Did this have something to do with the Pelagon’s malfunction?
She stared transfixed as powder sprayed from units on the side and doused the flames. Seconds later, its flickering lights fizzled out.
Chapter 3
Redon opened his eyes. His first thought was that they had all perished in the impact and they were ascending to the other world, awaiting admittance by the First. Slowly, his vision began to focus. The ringing in his ears was still intense, but he could tell one thing without his hearing. They weren’t in the other world—that was a paradise, unlike their current surroundings.
Several grimacing, dusty faces stared back at him from the ruins of the control room. He glanced around, confused. They were alive. He knew Kadan, the navigator, was one of the best in the force, but Redon secretly hadn’t expected him to be able to land on unknown terrain with mere seconds’ warning.
“Aron? Are you there?”
Redon winced and swallowed. Pain had shot through his jaw when he attempted to speak, and the persistent ringing meant he couldn’t hear his own words. It was disorienting—like the underwater training they’d been required to undergo as cadets. Except without the reassuring mana juice at the end of the exercise.
Instead, Redon rose slowly, ignoring the pain in his legs. The skin on his body was armored—he must have hit something on impact. He wasn’t surprised—a quick survey of the control room showed him that much of the equipment had been destroyed. His soldiers lay scattered across the floor.
He stumbled to where Aron lay and shook his second-in-command’s shoulders. Aron mouthed something. Redon shook his head and pointed to his ears.
“Can’t hear,” he mouthed.
Aron just stared back.
Redon squeezed his six fingers together and held them up in front of Aron’s eyes. For one awful moment, he thought that Aron’s sight had been damaged. Then Aron rolled his eyes and mouthed something at him—Redon could tell from the expression on his face that he was impatient to check on the rest of the unit.
Redon helped him to his feet and they moved through the devastated control room. Not everybody was as lucky as Aron, who appeared completely unscathed.
He shuffled along, avoiding looking at his leg. He could feel somethi
ng sticky oozing down it. He didn’t know how badly he was hurt, and in that moment he didn’t care. He needed to ensure the safety of his soldiers and then figure out what the hell had happened to their ship. There’d be time for Timon to apply quantumheal later.
The ringing in his ears showed no sign of abating as he moved around the room, checking the severity of the crew’s injuries. A number of the soldiers, especially those who had been on the gangway at the time of impact, hadn’t made it. He looked up and saw Aron pushing at the doors. His face was screwed up in concentration. Redon rushed to help.
Aron stared at him and mouthed something.
Redon frowned and stared at his lips.
Aron shook his head almost impatiently and waved his hand in front of Redon’s face. When he had Redon’s attention, he began to make the sub-aqua signs they had learned in officer school long ago.
Are you hurt?
Redon shook his head, desperately trying to remember the signs for what he wanted to say. No. But table fence are.
Aron frowned.
Redon rolled his eyes. They didn’t have time for this but there was no other option. He wished he’d paid attention to the non-combat classes at the academy, but the truth was he’d been too focused on getting behind the controls of his own ship to have enough attention left for what he thought of as soft, pointless subjects.
Now, he wished he’d paid attention.
Not good day.
Aron rolled his eyes. Really?
Snorting—at least it felt like he snorted—Redon reached forward and slapped his second-in-command savagely on the arm.
Aron’s shoulders hunched over—a classic sign that he was struggling to keep back his laughter. Redon understood the feeling—he was struggling to stay in control himself.
He held his hands up and shook his head. No. Too important. No fight dance.
Aron rolled his eyes. His hands worked furiously. Redon stared at them with a frown as he fought to figure out what his second-in-command was saying. Aron glared at him as he waited for Redon to comprehend. Shaking his head again, he stalked over to the wall and glanced around. To Redon’s astonishment, he pulled open one of the panels that had exploded open and tore out an exposed pipe, holding the top over a flame maker.
Redon was seconds away from wrestling him to the ground when he realized what his long-time friend was doing.
I take it you can read? Aron wrote on the floor using the char as ink.
Redon wrenched the pipe from his fingers. He was inches away from the floor when he froze. Aron looked at him questioningly. In response he wrote: No time. Keep short. You hurt?
Aron shook his head.
Redon held the pipe toward him.
Aron took it and bent to write. Redon looked over his broad shoulder.
Are you hurt?
Redon shook his head and took the makeshift pen. No. Just hearing from impact. Zalon? Alive?
Aron shrugged. Comms down.
Redon closed his eyes. if anything had happened to Zalon then it was safe to say they were all doomed.
We need to check on the crew; figure out who’s capable of moving.
Agree. What happened? No memory. Everything to schedule and then nothing.
Redon shook his head. He had no idea either. It seemed like whatever it was had happened so fast that they hadn’t even had time to register it. He took the pipe.
Attack? Must be. Ship damaged.
Aron nodded. I will check on Zalon?
Redon bit his lip. He couldn’t believe the position he found himself in. All his life, he’d been working toward this moment. But this was all wrong. It was too soon to set foot on the alien planet earth. And it hadn’t meant to be this way—they were supposed to swoop in in triumph and glory; the beginning of a new age of glory for the Dreon. Not fall to the planet in a wounded ship.
Sir?
All Redon could think was they weren’t ready for this. But he stayed silent. A good leader didn’t flee shrieking from a challenge.
He took the pipe from Aron’s hand and was about to tell him to find the engineer when he caught the look in the other Dreon’s eyes. They were wide with alarm. Redon’s own eyes widened. He had never seen Aron look like that before.
“What is?” he mouthed.
Cursing, he looked behind him to find out the cause of Aron’s alarm. When he saw what was there, the pipe dropped through his fingers.
***
The buzzing in his ears was almost matched by the sound of his own pulse rushing through the ridges at his temples. He stared at the Drayon. Its golden eyes gleamed unnaturally bright. Its teeth were bared. Fierce. He couldn’t actually hear it, but instinctively he knew the sound it was making; the terrifying growl.
He turned to Aron.
They didn’t need to speak now. A look of understanding passed between them.
This isn’t normal mission procedure, Redon thought. Usually, Dreon were strictly forbidden from shifting in a confined space like their ship. But these aren’t normal times.
There was a reason for the strict rules. Drayon had their place. They belonged in wars and the wide open air of Dreon. Not in ships or matters of diplomacy. Redon raised an eyebrow. They’d been on a mission to the outer settlements to check on the base there, but that had all changed now. They were on an unfamiliar planet with no way to communicate with home. He couldn’t hear a thing. And they hadn’t been able to prize open the door.
This isn’t a time for diplomacy and strategy, he thought.
It’s time for action. Survival.
He glanced at Aron and nodded curtly. And within seconds that was it. One thousand years of military tradition cast to the wayside as they and all of the Dreon around them gave in to their instincts and allowed the transformation to take hold.
***
Redon looked around. It felt good to stretch; to be strong again after so much time in suppression. He snarled. They were all there now. Aron. Timon and Melen. Aron growled. Redon grunted back. There was no problem with his hearing now that he’d shrugged off his Dreon. He could have sensed a tanawol claw dropping fifty miles away.
He swung around, lashing the metal hull with his barbed tail. The pain barely registered with him. He was built for impact; armored. He could sense air. Freedom.
With a mighty roar, he rushed against the steel walls that contained them. Aron joined him, and soon they were rushing at it with all their might until they finally broke through. With a victorious cry, Redon and Aron burst through the opening and took off into the sky, whirling and swirling and staring in awe at the unfamiliar lands below.
It was nothing like Dreon. The landscape was brown and barren in all directions. There was no cover; no variation. He felt a familiar urge to explore; to become familiar with this new land and make it his territory.
And then something strange happened. Redon cried out in surprise as his Dreon came back to the fore. They weren’t high up by Drayon standards, but they were high above the strange earth sands when he felt his wings pull back; his claws retract. And then he was falling, falling, falling. Fast. He lashed out trying to catch something to break his fall, but his wings were gone. He was coming back.
The fog lifted from Redon’s mind as he fell, desperately roaring to the others for help. The surge in his heart had been unmistakable even in his Drayon form. But Redon didn’t understand it. They weren’t on Dreon. There was no way he should have had that reaction. He closed his eyes as the tawny ground came closer and closer. Redon braced himself for his second lethal impact of the day.
Chapter 4
The door burst open as Kate paced the room she had come to think of as the last place she would ever see on earth. She turned.
Commander Jessop stared at her, a strange look on his face.
It was funny—just minutes before, her mind had been buzzing with questions for the commander. Now, she could only think of one thing—it was like the strange alien ship had made her swallow her fear and confusion.
“We have bigger problems,” the commander said quietly, as if he was expecting an angry reaction from her. Kate wasn’t surprised—after all, he knew her better than anyone on earth and in space probably.
“I know. But when this is over,” she growled.
“I’ll tell you everything,” he said sadly. “It was for the good of the planet, believe me.”
Kate felt bitterness rise within her again. “Letting them die?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t easy.”
Kate tried to swallow back her anger. “That ship…”
He nodded. “I don’t know, Kate. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Should we go explore?”
He shook his head. “You’re still quarantined. As are the others. I told you: until the scans come back, you’re not leaving this room.”
Kate exhaled loudly. At least the others had made it. “Commander, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but an alien ship has just crash-landed. And if I’m not mistaken, the damage it’s sustained is not consistent with any weapons in earth’s armory. Meaning—”
“Meaning they were attacked by another alien force,” he said quickly.
Kate got the distinct impression that a lot had happened in the days since she had last spoken to the commander. She shook it off.
“Well someone needs to go investigate,” she said, trying to gather her thoughts. But it was impossible—she couldn’t think straight without knowing why the commander had put her crew’s lives on the line. Had they known there was a problem with the engines? Why hadn’t they warned the crew so they could do something about it? she needed answers. She stepped forward, trying to block his path out of the room.
He moved quickly to the door. “Kate, I told you…”
They both stopped talking and turned in astonishment at the sound of a series of loud bangs.
