by Stella Cassy
“What is that?” I asked.
“Oh,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “It stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”
“Post traumatic…?”
“Stress disorder,” she nodded. “It’s a mental health disorder. Many humans suffer from it. It’s triggered by painful, shocking or distressing events.”
“And you have this?”
“I… might,” I nodded. “I’m sure it’s not exclusive to humans. I imagine every intelligent life form suffers from it.”
“Not Drakon,” I said gruffly.
She looked at me skeptically.
“We are strong,” I said. “Battle is part of life. We are trained for it from the moment of hatching.”
She looked at me carefully, her eyes searching my face for the chink in my armor. “You never lost someone?” she asked. “Someone you loved?”
I bristled at the question. It was too much— too personal, too invasive. She seemed to realize that because she broke eye contact.
“It’s ok,” she said. “You don’t have to answer that. I just— what happened today, it made me think of something from my past— something I’ve been trying to forget.”
“Memories of Earth?” I asked.
She looked up at me through long, curling dark eyelashes. Her eyes really were beautiful - pools of deep, soft browns that held all the colors of a Thirren autumn.
“Yes,” she nodded, her voice ghostlike. “I watched them all die…”
I frowned, trying to keep up with her fast moving thoughts. She was lost in a reverie of her own making and I could see that the power of those memories was making her hands tremble.
“Who were they?” I asked.
Her eyes fluttered and I saw a film of water pass over the surface of her iris. “My men,” she whispered. “And women. My squadron. The Eleventh Squadron charged with protecting New York.”
“New York?” I repeated.
“The city I was born in,” she replied. “The city I was charged with protecting.”
I raised my eyes with sudden realization. “You were a commander?”
“I was not always a slave you know,” she said harshly. Then her tone softened and her defensiveness melted away under the weight of emotion. “I used to be someone… important.”
“You commanded a crew of your own?” I asked, trying to imagine her in the role I was currently encompassing.
“No, but I led a military unit,” she admitted.
I was impressed despite myself. I had seen the edge of ferocity in her character, but it had been buried under years of slave labor. She had been transformed into someone who had to adopt an air of meekness in order to survive. Was it possible that I actually felt sorry for her? Suddenly the collar around her neck jumped out at me. It was a screaming reminder of the reality that had been forced on her. Suddenly, I couldn’t look at her without feeling a thin vein of shame wrap itself around my conscience.
“What happened?” I asked, wondering if it was a mistake to ask the question.
“They died,” she replied, her face flushed with bitter sadness and the claustrophobic pain of regret. “Because of me.”
I watched her to try to regain some semblance of calm, but she was too far-gone into her past. “Commanders always feel a sense of responsibility for the men that follow them… you can’t have—"
“You don’t understand,” she said, cutting me off brusquely. “I was given a choice.”
I found myself moving closer to her, enamored of her story and the person she used to be. I was willing to wager that deep down she was still that person, it was just that she had lost parts of herself along the way.
“What was the choice?” I pressed.
“The mayor- the uh… leader of my city, was paranoid about an attack,” Yvette started. “Beijing… another city on Earth, had been attacked only months before. The world thought the attack was an inside job, orchestrated by the Chinese mob, but Beijing claimed it was aliens.”
“No one believed them?” I guessed.
“It was hard to believe them,” Yvette said, her tone tittering dangerously on the brink of collapse. “The concept of aliens was… a foreign one. Humanity has always struggled with the idea. But there were those among us who believed. The leader of my city was one of them. He made sure we were prepared and because of his orders we had set up certain defenses in anticipation of an attack.”
She glanced up at me, but her eyes were glazed over. She wasn’t really seeing me at all. “I never truly believed it would happen,” she admitted. “But then New York’s entire power grid blew out and cut us off from the rest of the world; it was Beijing all over again. And just like that … the sky was falling down on us and the aliens were attacking.”
I had never been to Earth. I had never seen their strange trees or buildings. But I had been on the ground in a world succumbing to invasion. You hadn’t seen chaos until you had seen a planet being taken. It was death, anguish and hopelessness personified.
“The Pax Alliance sent an emissary to meet with me,” Yvette continued. “His name was Scarvo and he spoke for the commander of their forces, Zellin. He told me that our defeat was inevitable. They would spare our lives only if we surrendered.”
“But you would all be put to collar.”
“Yes,” Yvette nodded. “We would be slaves… but we’d be alive. Scarvo told me that if I refused their offer, Zellin would kill every last one of my squadron while I watched. Then he would make a slave of me anyway.”
“You didn’t take him up on the offer,” I nodded.
Yvette looked down and I saw a tear slip free from her face. “I was filled with human pride… the gullibility of noble intentions. I thought—"
“You did the right thing,” I said sharply. “It is better to fight and lose rather than surrender without putting up a fight. There is no honor in yielding.”
“Honor?” she repeated, looking at me as though the word had no meaning for her. “There was no honor in any of it…”
I noticed her hand reach up to the three-leaf clover tattoo on her left cheek. It had become her defining characteristic and yet, there were times when it completely slipped my notice.
“The Pax did that to you?” I asked.
“Zellin did it himself,” Yvette replied, her tone punctured his name with loathing. “He wanted to give me a memento of that day so that I would never forget what my decision did to my men.”
“War is ruthless,” I said. “Creatures die all the time, on both sides of every war ever fought. The Pax invaded and overpowered you. That is not your fault.”
“Isn’t it?” Yvette asked, and her tone moored in lamentation. “You must have noticed –bad things tend to happen whenever I’m around… like the asteroid.”
My eyes shot to her face. “You can’t honestly—"
Before I could finish my sentence, I felt my crest light up.
“What’s happening?” Yvette asked, her eyes going wide with fear.
“They need me in the control center,” I explained. “The fleet is scattered and we haven’t been able to locate Dashel’s ship.”
“Can’t you contact them and get their coordinates?” Yvette asked, her expression changing immediately to one of fear.
“The coms system is down,” I replied. “We can’t get clear messages across. Dashel’s ship tried to make contact but they got cut off.”
I turned towards the exit, but her hand reached out and grabbed my arm. I froze and so did she. Our eyes met and for one turbulent moment I couldn’t see past her hypnotizing eyes.
“Maybe I can help,” she said urgently.
I raised my eyebrows.
“I know your software and equipment will be different to what I’m used to, but at the end of the day it’s all just science. If I can take a look at the internal mechanism of your coms system, maybe I can find a way to correct it.”
I considered it. Her eyes were earnest and determined, but I could see past what she
wanted me to see. The truth was that she was afraid to be left alone. She didn’t want to be limited to the confines of the basement— not with all the ghosts she had carried with her through her life as a slave.
The control room was restricted to the Drakons of the Hielsrane. Only a trusted few outside of the commanders were granted access to the inner sanctum. But I realized with a start that I did trust this human.
“Very well,” I nodded. “Come with me.”
13
Yvette
Ranel led me up the service elevator from the basement and through the ship’s labyrinth of passageways until we reached an area that was cordoned off by a set of large steel doors.
They looked Spartan in the extreme and when they slid apart, I realized there was another set of doors on the other side. These doors were embellished with a shiny metal that seemed to throw off any and all reflections. Ranel stepped forward and pressed his hand against the authorization pad at the side of the door. Immediately, they slid apart to reveal the control center.
I walked in gingerly, trying to hide behind Ranel as much as I could. The control room was a large room with an oval nose that looked out into the infinite galaxy we were travelling through. I knew the glass that made up the windows was extremely thick, but it certainly didn’t look that way from where I was standing. It looked like another hit by an asteroid would cause it to shatter and take us all out in the break.
It was a beautiful sight and I might have been able to enjoy it more if it hadn’t been for the three large Drakon who were staring at me with suspicious gazes.
“What happened?” Ranel asked. “Did you secure contact with Dashel’s ship?”
None of the Drakon took their eyes off me. “Dashel’s ship is trying to establish a clear coms line.” Deveron answered. “We thought it was working but then the connection all but died.”
Ranel growled low and I took a step back.
“What is the slave doing here?” Deveron asked, his tone making it clear what he thought of me being allowed into a restricted area of the ship.
“She is here under my orders… to help,” Ranel said in a curt voice that made me suspect he was slightly embarrassed about his decision to bring me here.
“To help?” Deveron repeated incredulously. “How can she possibly help us in the control room?”
“I want her to take a look at the coms system,” Ranel told them.
Deveron glanced at me and his gaze was biting. “Commander, with all due respect – look at the mark upon her face. She will only make the situation worse.”
I felt shame burn hot on my cheeks and my first instinct was to reach up and touch the tattoo on my face. The only thing that stopped me was the way Ranel’s eyes darted back towards me as though he expected me to do just that.
“I’m aware of what the mark means,” Ranel nodded sharply. “I will not cow to it. A Drakon should not believe in silly superstitions.”
Deveron flushed with embarrassment. “She is only a human… what could she possibly know?”
I couldn’t see Ranel’s face clearly before his back was to me, but I could tell from the rigid stance of his spine that he was not happy with Deveron’s tone or the way he was subtly questioning Ranel’s decision to bring me here.
“She is here at my command,” Ranel said. His words were each a nuanced growl. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Deveron dropped his gaze. “No Commander,” he replied.
“Good,” Ranel nodded. “Now move aside, all three of you. I want her to take a look at the coms system.”
The two Drakon sitting on either side of the sour faced Deveron were unfamiliar to me. The one on Deveron’s left was perhaps the largest Drakon I’d ever seen. He was even taller than Ranel and his scales were a dark, insidious brown that was almost black. The Drakon sitting to the right of Deveron had off-white scales with tinges of burnt-orange mixed into the ridges of his arms.
When Ranel asked them to move, Deveron balked visibly but the other two were smarter. Both maintained expressions of detached impassivity.
“How can she be useful?” the massive Drakon asked as he stood up. “What would a human slave know about our spacecrafts?”
“More than you realize,” I said, anger pushing me to speak despite the fact that I had no clue if I’d actually be any help. “I was a commander once too.”
All three Drakon looked at me with keen surprise. It was nice to be underestimated.
“You were a commander?” the tall Drakon asked.
“Gormson,” Ranel said, before I could reply. “Move aside and let her take a look at the coms system.”
Gormson paused and I knew it was hitting his pride to allow me to look over what he had been unable to solve. How sweet the victory would be if I actually managed to fix the problem.
“Gormson!” Ranel growled.
Gormson moved aside reluctantly and I uttered a silent prayer for myself as I walked over to the extensive coms system that seemed to take up half the servers in front of me. I recognized some parts of the machines; they looked similar to the ones I’d worked with back on Earth, but there were other parts that were foreign to me.
“Look at her face,” Deveron scoffed. “She has no clue what to do. She’s filled your head with lies. She was no commander.”
“Are you saying she fooled me?” Ranel snarled as he took a threatening step towards Deveron.
I watched as the younger Drakon flinched back in obvious fear and backed down immediately. “Of course not Commander, I only meant that she—"
“Stop talking,” Ranel hissed. “Get out of my face right now. I want to get this system fixed and I can’t do it with you second guessing my every move.”
“Commander—"
“Out!” Ranel yelled, his voice echoing across the room, causing me to shiver instinctively. “Gormson, Bletchgor, that goes for you too.”
They were not happy. I felt their glares on the back of my neck as they exited the control room, but I couldn’t help feeling a little thrill of satisfaction as well. The moment we were alone, I looked towards Ranel.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“They were being overly harsh.”
“I wonder where that comes from,” I said pointedly.
He almost smiled… almost. But to me, that almost smile spoke volumes. We were on the verge of a fragile friendship? Would this be the start of a different kind of life for me? I stopped the thought in its tracks. I was getting ahead of myself, as usual. I needed to manage my expectations and stop thinking of myself as a free woman. Ranel may have softened towards me, but he still kept the collar around my neck – a constant reminder of what I was and who he was to me. Not a friend, but a master.
I turned back to the control panel and looked over the monitors again. “I’m going to need some help,” I said. “Not all these contraptions are familiar to me. You’ll have to explain each one so that I know how to proceed.”
“I can do that,” Ranel nodded as he retrieved a large manual from a storage unit in the back of the room. “What do you need to know?”
“This small green button has a bunch of wires attached to it,” I said. “I need to know what it does and what each wire is connected to.”
As Ranel scanned through the huge manual, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of something – excitement, nervousness – gratitude? It felt amazing to be doing something challenging for a change. I had forgotten how much I missed taking the lead.
One by one, Ranel explained to me each unfamiliar button, device and wire that made up the coms system. I felt like I was back in bomb training, picking through each little thing to make sure I made the right connections. Ranel was surprisingly patient through the whole process. He answered every question I asked and he allowed me the silences I required to piece together the broken connections that had been caused by the asteroid crash.
As patient as he was, however, I could not escape how nervous he seemed to be. He had mentioned
the fleet a few times, but not half so much as he had mentioned Dashel. I could sense that Ranel shared a close bond with his fellow commander.
“Are you close to all the other commanders?” I asked, making an attempt to distract him.
He didn’t take his eyes off the sequence of buttons I was adjusting. “Most,” he nodded. “But Dashel and I… we’re close.”
“His ship is the one that tried to communicate with you?”
“We lost the signal before they could give us any real information,” Ranel nodded. “All I know is that Dashel is hurt somehow. I don’t know how badly.”
I saw the droop in his large, usually fierce eyes. He was more worried than he cared to show but I was starting to see through his hard exterior. It was all just a mask to hide the vulnerability lying just underneath. Perhaps it was this realization that gave me the courage to reach out and put my hand on his shoulder.
“It’s never easy,” I said. “To know that someone needs your help and not be able to do anything about it.”
“He’s strong,” Ranel said, almost to himself. “Whatever the injury, he’ll pull through. He loves his wife too much to die and he loves those wild hatchlings too.”
“If he’s anything like you, then I have no doubt he will survive,” I said, rubbing his shoulder in slow concentric circles.
He looked at me and there was something indiscernible in his eyes. I wondered if he was going to shrug off my hand or if he was going to lean in and kiss me. Lean in and kiss me? I jerked back at the thought, shocked that it had come so easily to mind.
“Uh… why don’t you go and eat something?” I suggested.
My ulterior motive was in getting a few moments to myself, mostly because Ranel’s close proximity to me was starting to make me think things I really shouldn’t have been thinking about at all.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat something anyway,” I said, knowing that the Drakon usually grew fiercer when they were hungry.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” I asked.
