Requiem

by E L Strife

  “We are aware, Sergeant Bennett,” a female Command member said, her pencil pausing beside the Coordinator.

  “How?” Heat flared through his back, his throat tightening. “Have any of you ever set foot on an Agutra?”

  No one moved. It was clear they weren’t catering to his outburst.

  He took a deep breath, summoning the courage to say what was on his mind. “You need to let some of them come here, to Home Station, so we can trade skills and expertise. We need to remind them that there are safe worlds that are neither imprisoning Suanoa nor vulnerable potential slaves.”

  Several members contended at once until a single voice broke through. “If you mean become shepherds, expose them to our secrets—”

  Planting his hands on the table, Bennett glowered at each one of them. “We put our lives and those of the survivors on Agutra in the same bucket last week. First, the mutiny against the Suanoan invaders, and now we’re expecting three Kyra warships with enough fighters and munitions to split this planet in two. One hole in the bucket and we’re all draining out together. We need to work as a collective to have even a chance at coming out alive.”

  “We will consider your request,” a fish-bone thin Command member said. His skin, bleached-wood white, reminded him of Suanoa. In a blink, Bennett saw the man’s spark; it was a dark pit, but nothing like the life-sucking grasp of the invaders.

  It was too soon to trust his skills. Bennett peered over his shoulder at Atana. Her hands were on Azure’s shoulders. His tucked-up knees reflected the sapphire light of his eyes.

  “Now that you have returned,” a female voice carried across the table. “We’ll expect to see new wristbands and serum compliance within the first shift. We have a lot of work for your team to—”

  Bennett whipped around, his narrowing eyes alighting. He knew it by the sudden golden tint to everyone in the room. If it weren’t for Atana’s confession of watching his father die, he’d be here, believing Command’s BS day in and day out. There was nothing more disrespectful in his mind than someone that broke their own rules.

  In his growing anger, he blurted something that would’ve earned him an immediate discharge any other day in service. “No.”

  “Excuse me?” A member stammered, forehead wrinkling as he canted Bennett’s direction.

  “Atana and Azure will not be on the protocol. They have been through too much.”

  “Sergeant Bennett, we have rules,” The Coordinator said, calmly lacing his fingers together on the table.

  Fury prickled Bennett’s neck in hot waves. He straightened to his full height, every muscle swollen with a sudden rush of energy, and thrust a finger at them. “They are far beyond needing your rules!”

  The Coordinator exchanged glances of intrigue with the woman on the end, whose pencil stopped. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever back-talked Command, Sergeant.” He leaned forward in his seat. “Rules are in place for a reason.”

  “I’ll take your shit. Doubt it will do any good.” Bennett stifled a huff and the fear arising from his infraction. But Atana had been right. This situation was about more than them. “But if you want to survive the Kyras, you leave them be.” His jaw set, with one last irritated scan of the apathetic members, he flung the door open and stormed out.

  Making sure the door closed firmly behind him, he rubbed his palms into his closed eyes, pushing the headache into momentary remission. What did I just do? “Fucking hell.”

  Command never made exceptions, no matter what. They were insisting on serum mandates, things his team was so far from that it could cause more problems psychologically if they went back on. He had to remove himself or risk losing his shit in front of them.

  Dropping his arms, he checked on the other two.

  Azure wiped his nose on a fibrous sleeve and sniffled. His head hung between his forearms, his fingers cutting rows in his hair like crops of stiff hay. Atana held her composure, sparing a second to glance at Bennett’s bare feet.

  Squatting to their level, Bennett’s elbows balanced on his knees in case Azure lashed out. Often when reality hit, morose denial was first, followed by bouts of anger. He knew because the serum had rarely worked on him. “We did everything we could.”

  Azure’s head thumped against the stainless steel wall, resting in frustration. Licking the saltwater from his lips, he took in a choppy breath and looked hopelessly up at the ceiling. “It’s never enough. No one deserved to die. And so many—”

  Hot tears slipped out again.

  “We have to focus on the freedom gained. These good things do not come without sacrifice,” Bennett offered.

  Azure’s bold eyes snapped to his, the tone of his voice darkening. “Do you think those sacrificed agree?”

  Atana rested her hands on Azure’s knees. “Most, those who took it upon themselves to fight.”

  “The others?” Azure asked.

  “Were the reason we fought,” Bennett stated. “They were the last to die because of the Suanoa. They passed knowing hope in their hearts, knowing of the mutiny, of the future of freedom. Their spirits rest pain-free and no longer under Suanoan rule. They do not have to fight anymore, but we do.”

  Azure swayed. “We are one Agutra of thousands, maybe more. So many are gone, and yet it’s such a small percent.” He knocked a fist against his chest, his lips curling back. “Hope and anger are fighting.”

  “Semilath Agutra is our only concern right now.” Atana lifted his chin with a delicate touch. “We can help them. Chamarel gave her life for mine, in honor of this cause. Defending Semilath and Earth is our focus.”

  Azure ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek in adoration. “Ma also saved me and Kios.” He paused. “Where is Kios?”

  “With my healer, Rio.” Atana hooked a thumb at the stairs. “He’s safe.”

  “Speaking of—” Bennett rubbed a hand up his aching forehead—“I’m on my way to get a new wristband plus an extra high dose of serum.”

  Atana frowned. “Serum?”

  “Expecting us to follow the rules.” Bennett shrugged to hide his disappointment. Even if he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want to lose the energy she filled him with every time she was around. Serum would wipe the feeling from him in an instant.

  “They can’t be serious.”

  Bennett nodded. “Just told me. I tried to get them to leave you two off the mandate. Won't know until we see Rio.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I guess we’re coming with you.”

  Holding out a hand to Azure as she stood, Bennett mirrored her. Azure eyed his offering.

  “You gave me yours when I needed it,” Bennett said. “I like playing fair.”

  Azure took their hands and pulled himself up between them. Together, the three shuffled down the stairs.

  “Since we have things under control, why don’t you two take some—” Bennett paused as they set foot on Level Two, heading for the stairwell across the hall. Several shepherds passed by, hurrying toward the staging area. Descending the steps, he whispered, “Take some time to yourselves. Get a hot shower, pick up Kios, rest a bit. We can help with this after we’re all back in one piece.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. I do need some real clothes to work in.” She squinted up at Azure as they dropped out onto Level Three. “I’ll have to dig for something your size.”

  A light smile cracked on Azure’s face as he wiped the last of the moisture away. “I have learned to not be picky.”

  She patted his back. “I bet.”

  Bennett let out a silent breath. He felt stronger without serum, more capable, more— He glanced back at the mahogany waves swaying behind him, walking beside Azure. The sand and grass entangled in her hair were no deterrent to the fire building in his core.

  Maybe serum was best even if its effectiveness was a crapshoot.

  “Holy hells,” Atana muttered, encountering the flood of shepherds outside S.S.O.

  Bennett slammed to a halt, scanning the gathered s
hepherds’ wristbands. In the top center of the screen, beneath the clock, was their designated base of operations: Ocean Base (O. B.) Seventeen, Mountain Base (M. B.) Nine, Tropic Base (T. B.) Twenty-five. “All different zones. The serum recall must’ve been bigger than we thought.”

  “Sergeant Atana!” A shepherd scrambled down the hall. “We need your help,” he urged with a wave of his hand.

  “What? What is it?” She dropped back from the line, Bennett and Azure following.

  The man struggled for a breath. “When the reserve bay collapsed from the—” He spun a finger in the air and smacked his dry lips. “It disrupted the control modules for the hangar doors on the east side of the island, and I can’t fix the programming. We’re getting overwhelmed with collectors. Sergeant Tanner isn’t here. You’re the only other one with the security clearance.”

  “Okay, show me!” Atana leapt into a sprint beside the shepherd.

  Azure called after them, “Nakio?”

  “Pick up Kios, please!” she yelled. “Room 389 is mine.”

  The two men watched her outline disappear around a corner at the end of the hall.

  Bennett’s heartsick fear was confirmed. She and Azure would stay together.

  “She’ll be fine,” he mumbled, ushering Azure in the door.

  Chapter 16

  A NURSE JUMPED BACKWARD when Bennett shoved Azure onto her exam table. “What—is—this?”

  Bennett glowered at her. “He is Azure, a Xahu’ré warrior from Agutra who saved Sergeant Atana’s life?”

  “Atana?” Her fair cheeks pinked. “Oh, I apologize.”

  S.S.O. was crammed so full of shepherds and attendants that they were seating one at each end of the steel slab. The chatter had grown to an indecipherable roar, forcing them to raise their voices.

  Bennett waved a hand at Azure’s wrist. “He needs a band and an ID chip because he is a member of my team.”

  “I need approval,” the nurse countered with a glance at the chart on her tablet.

  Azure’s ears drew back while he watched the commotion, face pinched with discomfort.

  “It’s not usually this busy,” Bennett offered in consolation. Holding his chipped-wrist under the nurse’s screen before she could step away, the tablet chirped. “I’m authorizing it.”

  “Sergeant Bennett,” she frowned at her screen. “I need Command’s approval for a—non-human entry. I don’t even know how to make one.”

  This will come across rude, Azure. It was a warning and an apology. She doesn’t understand.

  Azure shifted on the flat surface, inspecting the team of shepherds circling the table next to theirs. Two assistants squeezed between, one bumping into Azure’s arm. He frowned. Do whatever you must, so long as I can stay.

  Tilting toward the nurse, Bennett sharpened his voice. “He’s on station to assist with the collectors. You want him wandering around without a way to track him? You’d be retired early for such insubordination.”

  Bennett. Azure was focused on him again. Your eyes are glowing.

  Forcing a sigh through his nose, Bennett calmed his racing pulse. Thanks.

  “I suppose you’re right, sir.” Pulling out a Human Cataloging (H.Co.) Coder from a drawer beneath her table she readied her fingers over the keys. “Please tell me your name.”

  “Azure.”

  “No middle name? Last name?” Her brows lifted.

  He shook his head.

  “Do you know your parents’ names?”

  “Mratus, my father. Prixxa my mother,” Azure replied, spelling them out.

  “Topographical Zone?”

  Bennett leaned over her shoulder. “Put Semilath Agutra.”

  “Age?”

  Azure scanned the bustling shepherds packed into the room. “I do not know for sure. About thirty long-cycles. Atana is twenty-eight?”

  “I can’t tell you th—”

  Bennett cut her off. “Yes.”

  His gray hands clenched and relaxed. “Then I am likely thirty-one.”

  “Security Clearance?” The nurse looked to Bennett.

  “Better put him under General for now: Access to all Standard Facilities. We’ll get the details worked out later.”

  “Left wrist please.” The nurse gestured for Azure’s arm.

  Azure held out his hand, and she took it, placing the device on his skin.

  “This will hurt.” She depressed the button, and a micro-chip thrust deep into his radius bone.

  Azure recoiled, a blazing fear crossing his features. “What is that?”

  “It’s how we connect with our CENA-7s.” Bennett gestured a hand at it. “Comprehensive Endocrine and Neurotransmitter Analyzer, model seven. It registers the blood pressure, heart rate, hormone saturation levels—”

  “You’re not putting me on that serum, are you?” Angrily squeezing the injection site, Azure leapt up from the bench. “I do not want to be on this stuff that makes you not feel. Emotions give us strength, the light in our eyes, our—”

  “Relax.” Bennett stopped him with a hand. You’re too old to go on it. “Rio has to assess everyone first. I can’t enforce it.” I don’t want to. He glanced at Rio’s office through the crowd of people. “You’ll talk to him when you get Kios.”

  He pointed to the table. Azure sank back, muscles bulging with frustration.

  The nurse warily snapped the wristband around Azure’s left forearm and completed the chip-pairing process on the screen.

  “I do not want to be controlled like an animal,” Azure growled. “My Ether spark must not be hindered.”

  I agree. Bennett took a band offered by another attendant. “Thank you, Sergeant.” Without looking, he set the screen and its attached serum case over his arm, snapped the four clips together, and tightened the straps. “This is how you connect with us. You can access a lot of things, including Atana, any time.”

  The nurse stood. “Is she his Team Leader?”

  “She’s an R4, not an R3.” Bennett corrected. “I’m the Team Leader, and I guard both.” He tapped through the set-up windows as his new band linked to the chip in his wrist. “Atana is my commanding sergeant.”

  She lifted her tablet. “I’ll link him under the two of you then.”

  Azure’s eyes were wild with confused fury. “I do not want to be tracked.”

  Exasperated, Bennett rolled his head. Azure was relentless. “You’re not going to be hunted. We use it to find you if you go missing.”

  “Or if you break a law, like kill someone you shouldn’t and then try to run,” the nurse said with a caustic glance at Bennett.

  Ignoring her, Bennett waved down an attendant, asking for another wristband.

  “Who is it for?” the nurse interjected.

  “Sergeant Atana. She got pulled away to fix the bay doors above the reserve dock.”

  She released Azure’s arm, whistling at the attendant he’d talked to, shaking her head. “Atana, Priority One slot, please.”

  The man came forward with a matte-black band displaying an additional, smaller screen over the serum case. “If it does not connect with her code in thirty minutes, Sergeant Bennett, I will—”

  He held his hands up. “I am aware of the repercussions.” Bennett took it in hand, inspecting the hardware. “Serum refills?”

  She shook her head, ushering Azure to stand and waving over the next shepherd. “Atana reports to Rio. She will have to get it on her own, as will you, Sergeant Bennett.”

  “Thank you.” Bennett escorted Azure to the back of the clustered line outside Rio’s door. “You remember how to work these?”

  “I will learn.” Azure snorted, twisting the wristband to find a more comfortable position. “You did not ask my permission.”

  Bennett sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. You need this, and we need you to have it. You’ve got plenty of time to learn the extra features while you wait in line.”

  “Me? Where are you going? Don’t you need serum?”

  Desperately. “Ata
na needs to get this band. I’m going to run it up to her and head back out to search for Lavrion in the bays. I promised her I would help.”

  “Lavrion? Her brother?”

  Bennett bared his teeth at him.

  “Right, sorry.” Azure’s body tensed. “What about Kios and me?”

  I’m trying to get through to Command, let them accept you as a shepherd. None of us are the same now. They’ve got to see it sooner or later. Bennett shook his head. I’m thinking it’s later.

  Azure snorted. Your people have stupid rules.

  Yeah. Bennett frowned. “Message me if you have any trouble.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  With a nod, Bennett left Azure standing amongst the shepherds discussing the recent events, hoping no one off their serum would bother the warrior. They’d had enough bloodshed already.

  …

  Azure knew he stuck out in his rags, bare feet, and striped skin. Shepherds gave him once-overs, others staring, sizing up his threat to them.

  Kios? The storm of thoughts in the shepherds’ minds made it hard to isolate the voices. Kios.

  Azure?

  After nearly a half hour, the shepherds spread apart as something small shifted in their midst. The boy popped out in front of him, an instant smile on his face.

  Azure lifted him into his arms, relieved to see him so energetic. How are you feeling?

  Kios glanced around at the crowd of men and women. No one here has stripes like us.

  They are hiding, like smart warriors. Azure prayed he was right. The rumors about Earth being the refugee planet had been confirmed, in his mind, the moment Command revealed their identities to him and Atana, exposing eleven species. When he’d seen them moments earlier, every one still wore their humanoid shell, leaving him disappointed.

  Someone shouted, and two security shepherds came up behind Azure, pushing him toward the office.

  “What are you doing?” Azure pulled Kios close to his chest, barricading the boy inside his arms. “We have done nothing wrong!” He backed into the room in defense.

  The shepherds stopped in the doorway, palms to their holstered weapons.

  “I’m sorry,” a calm voice said behind Azure. “I cannot let you leave until I confirm with Atana you are the one I can release Kios to.”