by Regine Abel
“Was it frowned upon?” I asked, while cutting into one of the three steaks I’d taken.
She looked at the plate I was eating from and cast an amused glance at the second one I hadn’t started yet. It never ceased to stun our girls how much we could eat. Thirty years ago, when obesity was still an issue for humanity, they used to hate how we remained so lean and muscular despite the debauchery of food we consumed. But now that the Coalition had provided them with a cure, more than twenty-five years ago, they just stared at us in disbelief, wondering where it all went.
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “We didn’t use any of them within the city, and the tribe knew we were creating them to protect the Coalition planets from the Kryptids. Most of the work we did there was mainly research on computers. The actual construction of physical weapons was mostly done and tested at one of the Coalition outposts. However, we did install the city’s defense systems. Probably one of the most fun activities I recall growing up was trying to trip them. It had become a game between my parents and me. Every time I managed to bypass them, I would get a treat of my choice. The quality and value of that treat increased each time I managed to bypass that same system again after they had theoretically fixed it.”
I chuckled at the smug expression on her face. “From the looks of it, you succeeded quite a few times and took great pleasure in rubbing their faces in it.”
“Absolutely!” she said shamelessly. “I can’t deny having a certain competitive streak. The rewards were also quite awesome, so that was a plus. But, more importantly, it was the pride in my grandmother’s eyes that drove me. She would say that I was a true Batay: a protector and a defender of the people. While it remained a fun game, it also became a duty that I took great pride in.”
“Did you not play with the other children in the city?” I asked while pouring some water into her glass from the bottles always available on every table.
“Sometimes, but not that often,” she said with an odd tone. It wasn’t quite sad, but more what I would describe as resignation. “You asked how it was growing up as an Empath. It was confusing, disturbing, and rather lonely… by choice.”
“By choice?” I asked, stunned by the unexpected comment. “Why? Were the other children mean to you?”
“No more and no less than children are with each other growing up,” she said in a peaceful tone. “But it wasn’t just the children, it was people in general. No one was mean to me for being human, quite the opposite. But I didn’t know that I was an Empath at first. In fact, no one did. Unlike pure blooded Thirilians who display their ability from birth, mine didn’t manifest until I was four years old. By then, everyone had assumed that, like my father, I had not inherited this trait from my grandfather.”
She took a sip of water, her beautiful black eyes going vague as she reminisced.
“At first, I would go through all kinds of weird mood swings that I couldn’t explain, one moment feeling happy, the next angry, stressed, or annoyed for no particular reason. For a while, my parents thought I was just throwing tantrums or being a little brat,” Sabra said with self-derision. “But then I realized that those were not my feelings as they matched the mood of the people surrounding me, or their reaction to whatever was currently happening. Trouble was, unlike the Thirilian children born with empathic abilities, I had not learned from birth how to block other people’s emotions. So, I was constantly bombarded, and it made me feel bipolar.”
“It must have been difficult,” I conceded with a frown. “I’m assuming it took a while for them to be able to assist you with that issue.”
“It did,” she said while pushing around some of the vegetables in her plate. “But there is something addictive to it as well.”
I raised an inquisitive eyebrow at that comment.
She smiled and gave me an odd look. “You Warriors have the ability to read auras, don’t you?”
“Indeed,” I said with a nod.
“When you meet someone for the first time, how long before you take a glimpse at their aura?” Sabra asked.
I chuckled and bowed my head in concession. “Pretty much immediately. In truth, depending on the situation, I may do it multiple times in the course of a single conversation or interaction. Especially if I need to know if that person is attempting to screw me over or to mislead me.”
“Well, it’s the same for me,” Sabra said. “The minute I approach someone, I instinctively want to assess their current state of mind to know how to best interact with them. If it is someone I am trying to impress,” she added while giving me a meaningful stare, “I will be even more inclined to do so. The problem is that ability quickly becomes a crutch, which leaves you crippled when the person you are interacting with effectively knows how to block their emotions from seeping out. But worse still, it made me into someone I was not.”
“Because you were trying too much to act in a way that would stir their positive responses,” I said, understanding dawning on me. “I can see how that would be a challenge. So, how do you manage?”
“I avoid using it as much as possible,” she said with a shrug. “It allows me to have a more natural interaction with others, spares my own feelings at times, but it also feels unethical to constantly spy on others. At the end of the day, that’s kind of what it is: spying. With the Psychic Training Program, we are taught not to invade other people’s minds on a whim or use our abilities to harass others. With empathy, we are taught to respect boundaries. You are entitled to your emotions, and it should be up to you to share them with anyone else. Reading them deprives you of that right.”
“But you still do it,” I said factually.
“I do, but rarely. And not right now,” Sabra said enigmatically.
“And yet, you have read me often,” I stated instead of asking as I already knew the answer.
She stared at me with a strange smile. For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer me as she started cutting another piece of her steak with great focus, before looking back up at me.
“I have,” she finally answered before shoving the big, juicy piece of meat in her mouth.
Her taunting expression had blood rushing to my groin. Although I doubted she was reading me right this instant, I reinforced the shield around my psychic mind to make sure none of what I felt leaked. I wanted to press the issue and make her reveal what she had gleaned from it. However, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she would confess having sensed my attraction to her. In a way, that would be ideal as it would finally open the door to us having this conversation. And yet, an odd sense of panic surged through me.
Sabra was attracted to me, but there was a huge difference between finding someone appealing and being told you are expected to share the rest of your life with that person after only meeting them less than a week ago. What if it scared her away?
But what if it made her happy?
While I sat there like an idiot debating how to follow through, Sabra leaned against the backrest of her seat and, tilting her head to the side with the same enigmatic smile, she spared me by throwing a question of her own.
“What about you? What was it like growing up as the first batch of Warriors? What is it like to be the face of the Vanguard?” she asked.
“Busy,” I replied with a sliver of sarcasm. I pushed aside the first plate that I had finished wolfing down and pulled the second one in front of me. “Our childhood was strange in many ways, as you would expect for the first generation of genetically engineered Warriors. Every single one of our days ran on a strict schedule. There was play time, study time, training time, food, and lights out at specific hours, in between all that a whole lot of medical tests and evaluations.”
Sabra frowned, a look of compassion descending on her beautiful features.
“Don’t be sad,” I said with a smile. “Our mentors and keepers were very kind to us. Our father—Dr. Liang Xi—made sure of it, not that it had ever been an issue. We were not unhappy, just had to deal with a lot of d
iscipline. As you will soon find out, if you haven’t already, I am a bit OCD, so that worked just fine for me. Other people chafed a bit more, namely Doom.”
Sabra chuckled. “Based on his reputation, I do not doubt it for one moment. However, I would have given much to see a mini-you nagging your brothers about staying on time and fixing their beds properly.”
I certainly intend for you to see many mini versions of me that we will conceive together.
That thought, once again, set my blood on fire. Images of little Phoenix and Defiant assaulting me playfully before our departure for this mission flashed through my mind. Only, this time, a third little Warrior, with a face similar to mine, had joined the fray. My chest felt constricted with joy, which I attempted to silence for fear my emotions would spill out.
I laughed and nodded.
“It had indeed been the case more times than I can count. There were many of us, but I grew closest to the other five that came out of their incubators within minutes from me. Legion was the first. Doom was second. I was the third followed only seconds later by Wrath. Rage and Steele came a couple of minutes afterwards. Since we trained in small units anyway, be it for combat or psychic abilities, the six of us were always together. It hasn’t changed much now.”
“Do you ever get tired of this life? Of fighting all the time all over the galaxy?” Sabra asked pensively. “After all, you didn’t choose this life. Your genetics imposed it on you.”
That took me aback.
“As far as I know, not a single one of my brothers ever questioned our destiny as Warriors and protectors of the galaxy,” I mused out loud. “In truth, I couldn’t picture myself doing anything else—nor would I want to. I genuinely love what I do. There’s something incredibly satisfying in squashing bugs.”
She chuckled and shook her head as if I were a misbehaving child. For some reason, it made me want to kiss her.
“But the greatest satisfaction undoubtedly comes from seeing the joy on the faces of the people we save and rescue,” I said, sobering. “Warriors do not start going on missions before we reach our maturity at age twenty-five. In the thirty-nine years since I started fighting, I have seen such horrors that I will never find rest until we can make sure no other species, no other world will have to endure what the Kryptids—or rather General Khutu—has subjected them to.”
It suddenly struck me that I had outed my age with this comment. Altering my vision, I glanced at her aura to see how she responded to that. After all, she had barely turned twenty-five herself. Would she consider me too old?
“You totally just checked out my aura,” Sabra said in a teasing tone. “Spying much?”
Mortified, I felt my scales darkening with embarrassment. However, I shamelessly lifted my chin and played along. “I did.”
“Why?” she asked while sticking her fork in the last bit of her steak. “Wondering what I think of your venerable age?”
I raised an eyebrow, impressed that she had guessed so accurately. “As a matter of fact, I am,” I deadpanned.
“Well, had you been human, I would probably say that you’re beyond ancient.”
I burst out laughing and shook my head as she grinned teasingly.
“But,” she continued, “you have a total life span of two hundred years. Double that of a human. Therefore, in human years that would make you thirty-two. As my grandmother would say, that still makes you a spring chicken.”
I laughed again, enjoying her dry sense of humor. “So then, what does that make you?”
“According to my grandmother, a brat,” she said with a nostalgic smile.
It made me wonder how homesick she would get once she settled on Khepri.
“Did you ever get to…?” Sabra’s voice trailed off. She chewed her bottom lip with hesitation while fiddling with her first dessert.
“Don’t be shy,” I said, my curiosity piqued. “I have nothing to hide. Feel free to ask whatever you want.”
“It’s just that my grandmother was a surrogate mother for a few of you. She was never told which ones,” Sabra said shyly. “I was just wondering if any of you ever actually met your mothers.”
I shook my head. “No. We do not know either our surrogate or our biological mothers—although egg donors might be more accurate. In fact, none of the surrogates gave their eggs. It was to avoid potential issues of custody down the road. I believe it was also part of the reason why the surrogates did not carry the child to term. All the eggs were brought from Earth from egg banks that Dr. Xi had built over the years from various donors for his research.”
“Does that bother you?” she asked softly.
“Nope. Not in the least,” I said with sincerity. “It might have been different had we been born in a more natural fashion, but it’s hard to yearn for something that does not exist. Had I had a miserable youth, that, too, might have influenced it. We were happy. However, now that I see Ayana, Liena, Tabitha and all the new mothers in the Vanguard, I don’t so much long for what might have been but more for what it will be to see my own mate interacting with our offspring.”
A troubled expression crossed her features, which she quickly hid. She gave me an assessing look before asking her next question.
“So, you believe you will find her? Your mate, that is?”
“Of course,” I said as if that was self-evident.
She shifted on her chair, a certain unease, if not sadness, surrounding her. “It must be difficult for you and your brothers to find your soulmates when you spend most of your time battling in one corner of the galaxy to the next,” she said in a neutral voice although I did not miss the underlying tension. “Have you ever considered taking a leave simply to travel back to Earth and visit the various human colonies in search of her?”
“It is indeed quite difficult. Many of us have considered doing exactly what you just suggested,” I conceded. “Some have actually done it, although very few successfully. But we all believe that when the right time comes, each of us will find the special woman that was made specifically for us, even though sometimes it feels like it never will. Life can be quite lonely out here for a Warrior.”
“Is that why you have been single for as long as we’ve known you?” Sabra asked tentatively. “Fraternization is allowed within the Vanguard, and I’m sure plenty of women would have been interested in a relationship with you.”
“I could ask you the same question,” I said. “According to your file, you are not in any relationship.”
“I always knew that I would leave Thirilia to work either for the Vanguard—if I managed to qualify—or for the Coalition on one of the other planets or an outpost,” she answered dismissively. “There was no point starting a relationship until I knew where I would end up and what kind of partner would be willing to follow me on that journey. But you haven’t answered me.”
I suppressed the smile that wanted to blossom on my lips upon hearing her answer. It pleased me to no end that there was no ex-flame that she might still be pining over.
“You answered it for me. What’s the point?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. “Xian Warriors only mate once and for life. Why build a relationship that is bound for failure down the road?”
“For companionship,” she answered. “Many of your brothers have done it. As long as both parties enter into it with their eyes opened, why not? As you said, life out here can be lonely. Do you not find it difficult to deny yourself what you want while waiting for something you’re not sure that you will ever have?”
“What is it that I want?” I asked.
Her face heated, and she averted her eyes. Shoving the last bite of her second dessert into her mouth, Sabra put down her fork and leaned back in her chair, chewing slowly while she pondered on her response. For a moment, I wondered if she would be dauntless enough to challenge me about the fact that I wanted her, as my emotions had no doubt told her.
“You want something like what Tabitha and Bane have,” she said slowly. “But how can you ev
er find it if you do not get involved with anyone?”
“Warriors know beyond the shadow of a doubt the minute they find their soulmate,” I said, my gaze boring into hers. “Our skin grows feverish, our mating glands swell, and our fangs descend to complete the bond. We do not even need to speak for it to happen. Just being in her presence will awaken them.”
Sabra swallowed hard, her eyes flicking to my throat as if she could see my glands through the skin.
“And have you ever felt those symptoms before?” she asked, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.
“That would be telling,” I said teasingly. “I see you’re all done,” I said gesturing at her empty plate with my chin. “Let’s go drop off our trays and get you into training. Don’t worry, no combat on a full belly. Let’s get you in the holodeck and see if you’re any good piloting a vessel.”
She frowned and bit back the comment that was burning her tongue. I wished she would have said it. Then again, maybe not. I wasn’t ready to tell her. It finally dawned on me while we were talking that, beyond observing protocol, I wanted her to like me naturally, and not because my glands said she had to.
Chapter 9
Sabra
Chaos confused the heck out of me. We had spent the past week almost constantly together, whether as part of the mission or for training. In fact, I had barely spent any time with the rest of the crew. While he’d been really good at blocking his emotions from me, sometimes he appeared to deliberately broadcast them as if he wanted me to know of his attraction. But that made little sense if he truly had no interest in pursuing a relationship with anyone but his soulmate. That mere thought had my blood boiling with jealousy.
A part of me wondered if maybe that could be me. But no sooner had that thought entered my mind than I chased it away. I was confident, but my ego wasn’t so big as to think such an honor would be for me. And yet, I had never been so incredibly taken by anyone. He had this odd mix of alpha male and dorky geek that just made my toes curl. The way his golden scales darkened whenever he was embarrassed or shy just made me want to lick them one by one or hug him. Actually, I wanted to do both.