by Cheree Alsop
“Close your eyes,” Gage told him.
Manax gave him a suspicious look. “Am I going to find a plogite on my hand?”
Gage chuckled at the thought of the sticky, oozing creatures they had found on a planet in the far reaches. “No. Trust me.”
When Manax closed his eyes again, Gage gripped his friend’s hand as if he was shaking it. He closed his eyes and found what he was looking for.
After the healing, pushing memories came more easily. As exhausted as he was, Gage knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long, but he owed Manax enough that he wanted to try and help him understand.
“Whoa,” Manax said quietly.
***
The memory came from the inside of the Kratos soon after they had left Titus. Dealing from the aftereffects of Donovan’s torture, Gage had wandered the halls for days. Nobody knew how to help him. Cisco’s remedies only brought mild relief and a cloud of fogginess Gage couldn’t stand. He couldn’t bring himself to eat. Sleep only brought with it nightmares that drove him awake again sweating and gasping. The pain from the acid sealed inside his wounds made his body shake until he felt as though he was losing whatever grasp of his sanity he still had.
His path one sleepless night had eventually taken him to the training room in the heart of the Kratos next to the gym and lockers. Inside, he saw Manax punching a bag in the corner. The steady one-two rhythm of the Amphibite’s gloved hands made the bag shake from the chain. The sound cut through the pain-filled haze in Gage’s mind. He crossed to the bag.
“Captain?” Manax said in surprise. The Amphibite looked younger, more carefree without the lines of concern or the depth to his gaze that came from things they had seen together on the Kratos.
“What are you doing?” Gage asked.
“Working out,” Manax replied.
“Hitting a bag?” Gage said. “What’s the point?”
A slight smile touched the Amphibite’s lips. He pulled off his gloves and held them out to Gage. “Sometimes it feels good to hit something. Try it.”
Gage ignored the gloves. He squared his shoulders the way he had seen the pilot do and jabbed at the bag.
“These protect your knuckles,” Manax said, holding out the gloves again. “They help to—”
Gage hit the bag once more. It jumped on the chain. The sound of the metal links clinking together fueled his mind. Images of the same sound holding him during the torture flooded his thoughts. Gage hit the bag again and again. With each jump of the chains, he slammed the bag harder. It felt so good to put his anger at the helplessness he had felt into something he couldn’t kill.
Gage hadn’t dared spend time around his crew. He had felt like a ticking time bomb just waiting to detonate, and saw the same concern in their expressions. He didn’t know how to be a captain of a crew that didn’t feel comfortable around him, and the tight hold with which he was forced to keep himself didn’t allow any of them to help him. The tension was too much and had put them all on edge, a captain who avoided his crew, and a crew who didn’t know how to help their captain.
Gage allowed himself to let go with the bag as he hadn’t been able to around the men and women who looked to him for guidance. He pounded and pounded the hard surface, making the bag jump with each hit. He felt relief with each blow, as if giving his anger an outlet released some of the helplessness he had felt.
Gage hit the bag over and over, losing track of time until his hands hit something soft instead. When he opened his eyes, he found that the zanderbin hide encasing the bag had split and the cream-colored fluff inside was spilling out. He stared at it, his chest heaving and hands aching. He looked down to see blood on his scuffed knuckles.
“Hence the gloves,” Manax said.
That caught something inside of Gage. A laugh escaped from his lips. Once it did, he couldn’t stem the tide of laughter that followed. Manax joined him until they were both in tears and holding their sides, grinning like fools as they stared at the mess he had made.
“You’re right,” Gage said, “It feels good to hit something.”
Manax chuckled. “Yeah, it does.”
***
Manax stared across the room, his dark eyes searching the wall as if he saw past the paintings to somewhere beyond.
“So that’s how you helped Majoria?” he asked quietly after a few minutes had gone by. He turned his gaze back to his captain. “It’s like that?”
Gage nodded. “Instead of a memory, I pushed my body’s energy into hers to replace what she had used up trying to survive. I just sped up the healing process, helping her body remember how it was supposed to be, encouraging it to go back to being whole.”
“Did it work?” Manax asked.
Gage lifted his good shoulder in a half-shrug. “I hope so. Only time will tell. She was pretty bad and I’m not good at healing. I need to get her to my sister.”
Manax nodded. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall near Gage’s bed. His brow was still furrowed as if what he had seen bothered him. Gage didn’t know how the Amphibite would respond to the pushing. He worried he had just alienated his best friend aboard the ship. Without Manax, he didn’t know what he would do.
Manax finally turned an unreadable gaze on him. “Of all the memories and adventures we’ve had on this ship, why show me that one?”
Gage went with the truth. “Because that was the moment I began to feel like a sane person again, and I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.” He shook his head. “After what happened on Titus, I couldn’t find myself. I didn’t know how to feel like a normal person again. Somehow, laughing with you fixed that. It was as if in laughing, the broken edges of who I was that didn’t fit together slid back into place and I could breathe again, think again, remember what it was like to feel and not dive over the edge of insanity.”
The hint of a smile lifted the Amphibite’s lips. “I did all that, huh?”
“Well, you could have given me your gloves. It took a few weeks for my knuckles to heal. You’d think you could have had a little consideration for your new captain—”
Manax reached over as if to punch Gage in the shoulder. He pulled back at the last minute with a chuckle. “Get some sleep, Captain.”
“You’ve got the command?”
Manax nodded. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll have Tersha wake you when we reach Corian.”
The door slid shut. Relief filled Gage at his friend’s response. Yet again, when the Amphibite could have walked away and told him he was crazy, he was there to give support instead.
Gage smiled and closed his eyes, grateful for the friends that made the Kratos more of a home than just a ship.
Chapter Fifteen
“Nice place,” Yukan said from his seat on the settee in the vast Day manor. “Why’d you ever leave?”
“Yeah,” Suye called over her shoulder as she ran her fingers over the books in his father’s vast collection that spanned three walls in the adjoining library, “I could lose myself here forever.”
“I didn’t leave by choice,” Gage replied.
“Obviously,” Klellen said. The Iridian’s scales were yellow with contentment as he sat next to the fire the servants always kept alive in the fireplace despite the lack of necessity from the mansion’s temperature monitoring walls.
The rest of the Kratos crew had spread throughout the rooms either studying the paintings, staring out the windows at the view of the Skavian Ocean, or sampling the delicacies Mateya had ordered brought despite Gage’s insistence that no such effort was needed. His crew had also very happily made short work of the fine Mercury wine and distilled Volgavian ale. But with Majoria battling for her life upstairs, Gage couldn’t bring himself to join them.
Sienna burst through the doors.
“Gage, we need your help. Something’s wrong!”
He was on his feet in an instant and sprinting up the stairs. Manax followed on his heels.
“What’s going on?” Gage asked, his heart
thundering in his chest.
Sienna led the way to the guest room where Yukan had carried the Balanelf. Cisco worked on the far side of the bed that had been spread with thick white blankets. Blue blood stained the clean surface in a greater quantity than Gage had been prepared to see.
Mattie looked up at Gage’s entrance. Her eyes were dull and her expression weary. “Things aren’t healing fast enough. She’s bleeding out. I’ve sent for a transfusion, but it’s going to be too late. I need your help.”
Alarmed at his sister’s appearance, Gage knelt beside her. “Mattie, you’re pushing too hard.”
She shook her head. “I can’t let Majoria die like this.”
Gage’s voice was gentle when he said, “You’ve done enough. Let me take over.”
He knew she was going to argue. He could see it in the expression he read so well. Yet there was an exhaustion about her that alarmed him. He had never seen her so pale.
“Mattie, let me,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.
She hesitated and he was worried she would deny him, then to his relief she nodded. He put his hand on top of hers.
“I’m going to let go,” she said softly. “Can you keep up the pushing?”
“I will. Go ahead and let go,” he told her.
He pushed as she released. As soon as she stopped pushing completely, her head slumped forward and she almost slid out of the chair.
“I’ve got you,” Manax said. He caught her gently and lifted her as though she weighed nothing.
Gage gave his friend a grateful look as the Amphibite set her gently on the divan near the wall. Manax then spread a blanket over her. Reassured that his sister was taken care of, Gage closed his eyes and pushed the way he had done on the Gull.
It was easy to follow the channels Mattie had made. The healing warmth of her touch had soothed the frayed edges of Majoria’s nerves and coaxed them together with a finesse Gage found incredible. He coursed through the pathways until he reached her stomach. He immediately found the problem.
The lacerations along her damaged organs had opened again. Gage didn’t know if it was because of his own inexperience with healing or because the injury was so extensive, but the internal bleeding he found was alarming. He could feel the places where Mattie had worked. They held, but only barely. If he couldn’t get the other wounds to repair themselves, they would lose Majoria despite their best efforts.
Gage lost track of how long he concentrated. The hours flowed together as he kept his pushing steady and even. Once, he nearly lost his hold when a hand touched his shoulder and Sienna said, “Gage, your mother is here.”
A surge of adrenaline filled him at the thought that maybe Donovan was with her. A moan escaped Majoria and he felt her heartbeat fade. Gage turned his focus back to healing her, all other concerns pushed away. He embraced the calm and told himself that if Donovan found him it would be worth it if he could help Majoria survive.
“Gage?”
His eyes opened at the familiar voice. Moonlight filtered in through the window, letting him know he had been at Majoria’s side for nearly an entire day. He took a deep breath with the realization of how shallow his breathing had become.
He carefully kept the pushing steady as he turned his head. The sight of his mother standing near him filled him with relief.
“I can’t save her,” he said with desperation. “I feel like I’m holding the flood at bay, but I can’t get any leeway. If I let go at all, her heartrate drops and I can feel her slipping through the cracks. Mattie’s exhausted herself. I won’t let her do anymore.”
“I’m here to help,” his mother replied.
Manax carried in a chair and she took a seat next to him. In the moonlight, the Damaclan tattoos down his mother’s neck looked stark and alive. She gave him a warm smile that told how happy she was that he was home.
“Let me see what we’re dealing with,” she said. She leaned forward and gently removed the bandages across Majoria’s stomach. At the sight of the blood still seeping through the stitches Cisco had placed to close the wound, her brow creased. She set her hand gently on the damaged skin and closed her eyes.
“This wound is extensive,” Liora said.
Gage couldn’t hide the worry in his gaze when he looked at his mother. “Is it too much?”
She shook her head. “Only time will tell. Keep pushing. You’re holding her here. Let me see what else I can do.”
Gage closed his eyes along with her.
“I don’t have the delicacy Mattie’s perfected,” Liora said softly. “But I’ve seen wounds like this before. Look.”
Gage could feel his mother’s energy guiding him through the tissue. Deep underneath where the bruising had seeped, she showed him pools of blood where it shouldn’t be.
“This will clog the healing process. You have to help the body reabsorb the blood. Watch.”
He followed in amazement as she turned the energy of the pooling blood toward helping to heal the body. The more it absorbed, the faster he felt the cells respond. He could only watch in awe as she directed energy through the organs, coaxing them back to their healed state.
Majoria’s body responded to her touch. With their combined energy, her damaged tissue closed and repaired itself to the point that Gage couldn’t tell what had been injured and what hadn’t. By the time they finally pulled back, dawn showed through the curtains.
Gage sat back. His shirt clung to his back and he couldn’t believe how thirsty he felt. As if in unspoken response, Mattie appeared at the door with a tray bearing a pitcher and two glasses. The flush of her cheeks had returned and she smiled at them both.
“I thought you could use some water,” she said. “Healing always makes me thirsty.”
Liora and Gage reached for the glass she held out at the same time. Liora smiled and dropped her hand. “You go first.”
Gage took the glass and held it out to her. “I insist.”
“You’ve been working here much longer,” Liora replied. “You take it.”
Mattie held out the other glass to her mother. “Why don’t you both have a drink.”
Gage smiled at his mother and put the glass to his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time water had tasted so refreshing. He took a deep drink. Mattie refilled it again as soon as his glass was empty.
After draining another one, he asked the question he had been dreading. “Is she going to be alright?”
His mother looked at Majoria. “She’s been through a lot. Time will tell. But I’m proud of you both. You did an amazing job keeping her here.”
Gage hugged her. Two years was far too long. He felt it in the way she hugged him back. He knew the strength of his mother’s hands, the way she could kill or control someone with a speed that left him staring, yet the gentleness that also came from those same hands felt even more powerful. He was aware when she pushed feelings of comfort to him. A smile touched his lips.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, stepping back. “I’m already home.”
“I’m just trying to keep you here,” she replied with an answering smile.
“It’s good to see you home.”
Gage turned at his father’s voice. Devren Metis looked older from the past two years, but nothing had changed the smile that lit his eyes and the way he made whoever he looked at feel as if they were the most important person in the room.
“Dad,” Gage said.
He hugged his father. Devren hugged him back. “I’m glad you’re home, son. How’s the Kratos?”
“She’s holding up,” Gage replied. “Sienna helped us hide her in the Eos. How long is the Condor in for repairs?”
“A few weeks. We’re just doing some upgrades and making modifications on the AB drive. She gets a bit shaky.”
Gage nodded. “We nearly ran out of Trilithanium ourselves.”
“That’s what sent you to Tanus,” Devren replied. “I wondered.”
“Come on,” Liora told them. “L
et’s let Majoria rest. We can catch up with some breakfast.”
Mattie nodded. “Your crew’s already eaten and run. They said they had repairs to make on the Kratos and told you to stay as long as you needed.”
“They’re a good crew,” Devren said.
Gage nodded. He couldn’t agree more.
Gage couldn’t believe how good it felt to sit around the family table eating and swapping adventure stories with his parents. It felt as though he had never left. They didn’t ask about what had happened in the Battle of the Verde Nebula, and he refrained from asking about Donovan. For that brief time, he could pretend that it was before the Macsian Wars, that he was just getting ready to leave for Specialist Training at the Unified Military Academy, that Donovan had already spent a year there and was awaiting his arrival, and Vanessa had never died. It was a good time to go back to.
“Copper for your thoughts?” Mattie said.
Gage realized silence had fallen around the table. He gave his family an apologetic smile. “Just remembering what a good place this was to grow up.”
Liora nodded. “I always wanted this for my children. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“How long can you stay?” Devren asked.
Glances were exchanged as though it was the one question they had all been putting off.
Gage’s smile fell. “My presence puts you all in danger.”
“Not at all,” his father replied. “You’re protected under your grandfather’s Proclamation of Asylum. The Coalition can’t extract you here.”
“Unless I want to damage the peace with which the Coalition has worked with Corian all these years,” Gage replied. “Harboring a known fugitive could bring all sorts of repercussions on your fleet. Unity is vital right now, especially with the Macsian Invaders. We have to stand as one if we’re to have any chance against them.”
Devren shook his head. There was a proud light in his eyes when he said, “I couldn’t have given my ship to a better captain.”
“You saved my life that day,” Gage told him.
A change went through the air, a shifting from the light talk to the reality of their situation.