Requiem

by E L Strife

  Imara slid back a step, watching the two Primes brighten. It was never a good idea to be in the middle of such an argument. The Kilavi spark which ignited their flumes and faces could punch a hole in a sector container if a Prime thought hard enough about it.

  “He doesn’t have our capabilities,” Rimsan retorted. “He cannot properly protect you.”

  “You don’t know that.” Amianna pounded her chest, the pulses in her flumes increasing in speed. “He understands my commitment, and we share similar interests. He does not think highly of himself, unlike some! There is more to him, inside.”

  “I want what’s best—” He lifted a finger to touch her cheek, but she backed away.

  “Rimsan, you live to work. I do not want my children to not know their father.” Her eyes danced over his shoulder to the burnt flumes. She reached for them, retracting at the last second, lips quivering. “You are too reckless for me. You don’t know when to stop and rest. The worry is destroying me.”

  She backed away, blending in with the darkness, her flumes rolling up under her cape.

  Imara sidled up to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why should I? She decided the instant she saw him. I felt it.” The ends of his flumes sagged like a wilting flower. Rimsan traced the length of Amianna’s form, a glaze of rejection over his eyes. It was gone a moment later. “I don’t want you to feel like this.”

  “Twelve long cycles, I already have.” Imara touched his shoulder. “Let’s get you to Miush so she can look at those injured flumes.” She locked elbows with him, urging him on through the halls.

  “I’m fine. I must continue patrols.”

  Imara collected a bundle of his strands, pulling them forward like a bunch of glowing worms. She gestured to the rounded ends. “Your diete are dim.” She arched a brow. “You cannot hide from me when you are nearing an energy crash.”

  The flumes pulled themselves from her hand. “My light has not flickered yet.”

  She leaned into him, the sector door a bright beacon up ahead. “I’m leaving you in charge when I go to Earth. You will rest tonight.”

  “Me?” Rimsan swallowed audibly. “Then I must ask if you agree with her, about my being reckless.”

  Imara hummed a laugh. “Yes. It’s why I trust you to lead. You and me, we fight with every ounce.” She lifted a finger. “Someday, Martiis Rimsan, you will find a female Prime who’s everything you hope she’ll be, and this will stop her in her tracks.” She directed some of his drooping strands back up in the air, an ultra-violet color flushing through.

  “Oh, sorry.” Rimsan scrubbed a hand through his dark hair. “Amianna still turns me on.”

  “Like Azure does me.”

  The two stepped through the open door to his sector and aimed for Miush’s hut.

  “I know all the Primes on this ship.” Rimsan sighed heavily. “None are matches except her.”

  Imara stopped him beside the wooden structure, a grin splitting her striped face. “Azure told me there are some hiding on Earth.”

  Rimsan’s lungs sucked in hard. “Does he think Earth is the kiatna refugee planet?”

  “Yes.” She took his shoulders in her hands. “Do not lose hope, courageous Rimsan. Vi tiisa.”

  He rested his forehead to hers. “Tsu, Martiisa.”

  —Incipient—

  Chapter 50

  A DEPRESSURIZING WHISTLE broke the morning silence in the hangar. Azure stood alone before the lowering collector ramp, Imara and Amianna appearing at the top.

  “Martiis!” Imara hopped off before the edge hit the floor, beaming at him. “You’re so—clean.”

  “They have private washrooms like sprinklers. Very effective.” Azure looked up at the thirty new workers on board. Beyond them were two doku and four shepherds in training, including Yari. He met everyone with a smile. “Welcome to Earth. Please follow your pilots. They will get you everything you need to work here, including new clothing and food. I will meet with you later this cycle to discuss our plans for the collectors.”

  Leaving the murmuring crowd for the main doors, Imara and Amianna followed at his side. Azure silently thanked Atana for overriding the elevator’s security system for descent and programming an automated adjustment for glowing eyes. He was now the liaison for his people and didn’t want to look a fool in front of his longest friends and fellow perimeter guards.

  Both women pressed themselves to the glass, staring out at the dark water, light from the car flickering off the schools of fish swimming by. He remembered his own shock the first time he arrived when Atana was bleeding out. The sight of their version of the void was still unnerving.

  “We are below the surface of their planet now. In water.”

  They hummed discordantly, pointing out things to one another that he couldn’t see. The view of the ocean disappeared, metal framework passing by, until light from the inside of Home Station’s staging area filled the space. The girls stepped back when the doors opened.

  Azure squeezed between them, aiming for an UP hub. “Come.”

  “Is Sergeant Tanner here?” Amianna asked, the two hustling after him.

  Azure logged into the system and waved them over for iris scans, unlocking two slots with wristbands. Rounding the corner, he withdrew them, extending each to the appropriate person. “Unsure. Please put these on, left arm. We are late for assembly.”

  He swiveled and headed down the hall toward the gathered shepherds.

  “Assembly?” Imara scurried up beside him, taking three steps for every one of his.

  Azure let a puff of air out of his lungs. “Yes, I need you both to stay with me. We are going to train the shepherds in fighting Linoans after Command talks to them. I got the specifics of the order this morning.”

  The Coordinator’s voice boomed throughout the open auditorium. “Thank you all for being swift in your maneuvers at the Unveiling and the hot zones following. The Kronos are a smaller, less effective group of the Verros formed by Linétens who believe the Suanoan ships will surpass the life of every galaxy. Because of this, they wish to save their species by tagging along. We have disrupted their plans.”

  Through the edge of the crowd spilling out into the hallways, a sergeant shifted toward them. Azure stopped and held a protective arm in front of the girls.

  Tanner’s blond head popped out of the sea of black uniforms, Cutter on his six.

  “Remmi.” Amianna broke Azure’s boundary, hurrying in his direction.

  Tanner put a hand up. Several shepherds were watching.

  Azure shamelessly listened to everything.

  “Mia,” Tanner warned. Remember what I told you. No emotion allowed. But I’m so happy you’re here—you have no idea. He lowered his blushing face, taking her wristband in his deft fingers. “Teek needs your help.”

  “You remembered I can hear you,” she whispered dotingly, bouncing on her toes. “The thought is mutual.”

  Azure watched him pull up the map system and select Teek’s position in the replication lab. I will find you later. He pointed at the stairs. “Down two levels.” Forgive me for not being more open at this time.

  She chewed a cheek, flattening her smile. After one more peruse of his face, she disappeared into the stairwell, her fabric cloak letting a pair of magenta flumes slip out.

  Azure waved for Imara to follow as he trudged up the steps toward 1-CR. I guess it’s just you and me.

  We’re standing in front of everyone? she asked.

  Yes. He climbed the last few stairs. As Tanner said, no emotion here or you’re regarded as crazy and put in a cage.

  What about our eyes?

  The tone of Imara’s voice through Ether sang with sweeter, gentler notes than her physical one, worn from countless cycles of barking orders at new recruits. She was a shadow warrior, the stripes layered on her face a clear indicator of her hard shell, soft center.

  Six of Command are Xahu’ré. They understand it isn’t controllable. Azure positioned himself
several paces to the Coordinator’s back, spreading his feet and locking his hands behind him. A long, smooth creature drifted by the glass wall holding back the ocean.

  Imara’s posture stiffened beside him.

  I do not know what they are either, but they do not come inside.

  The Coordinator continued. “We do not want to set up sides, pitting one species against another because of their ancestral history, when these days, they have been living with each other in peace. Unfortunately, the Universal Protectors is faced with a major problem.”

  …

  Bennett’s shoulder brushed Atana’s. They were crammed together at the rear of the auditorium, leaning against the wall. Sleep okay?

  She glanced at him before scanning the hundreds of packed-in shepherds. Not really. You?

  He crossed his arms over his chest. Tactical strategies are a nightmare when you don’t know your combatants’ capabilities and even worse when you don’t know your own.

  One piece at a time, we’ll put this puzzle together. She nodded to herself, checking on Cutter and Tanner in the far hall and Josie as she appeared from the medical wing. Her uniform was wrinkled and her bun askew.

  He inclined his head toward her. I am used to working with pieces. When the pieces are broken, hell—

  Atana took in a deep breath and leaned into him. I know.

  The typically quiet shepherds all whispered amongst themselves.

  Lifting his hands, the Coordinator asked for silence. “UP does not employ known Linétens or any other major aggressor from the Three Hundred Year War. Linétens are a cousin species to the Linoans. Since the Linoans are stronger, swifter, and require fewer nutrients, the Suanoa selected them instead.”

  Bennett whispered in her ear, “Chamarel said Kylo was Verros, right? Azure’s best friend?”

  Atana nodded. “It was a coping mechanism for him after they killed his mate, to think the container fields were where he wanted to be. Imara said Enii was the same. They didn’t believe in the cause. It was just a way to survive, mentally.”

  Bracing his hands on the railing, the Coordinator scanned the mass of shepherds looking up at him. “Because of this perceived dishonor, the Linétens formed their own version of the Suanoan ships, though smaller and operated solely by their kind. It is how they ended up here. Linétens have also been hunting Primvera for centuries, due to a feud over royalty lines. It was not until we hid their identities from one another, with H.Co, that we were able to limit their fighting.”

  A Team Leader raised his hand.

  “Yes, sir?” The Coordinator pointed at him.

  “Are the Kronos Linéten?”

  The Coordinator looked to Lavrion, who stood with arms crossed by the hall leading to the medical wing. “Kronos is organized by Earth Linétens, yes. However, they are quick to take in anyone they think will sacrifice themselves for the cause.”

  You two talked yet? You and Lavrion? Bennett asked.

  No. We all got thrown into this, too unnerved by everything to let our guards down enough to chitchat.

  Why aren’t you up there with them?

  Her eyes lifted to Azure and Imara. For Agutra relations sake.

  The Coordinator sighed. “Given this information, we have decided to train you to fight Linétens and Linoans. They may be the primary hand-to-hand obstructions to our success in keeping peace on Earth and fighting the Kyra ships heading in our direction. Azure and Imara will teach you the skills to take out your enemy every time.” He directed to the two Xahu’ré warriors behind him. “They have been serving as guards to the workers of the fields, starting out as slaves themselves. They went above and beyond, risking their lives to protect their brethren from the brutalities of life in ‘The Cage.’ They have more than earned our respect. We are honored by their presence.”

  The Coordinator shifted between his feet.

  “We have our Code in place for a reason, to prevent us from making mistakes like this. It is easy to value and idealize something not within our grasp, like the Linétens wishing for the position the Linoans have acquired. Our minds can fill the imperfections with delusions of possibilities without knowing the complete truth behind what we want. This is why it is crucial you maintain your composure, stay on your serum, and follow The Code and Oath. The fate of our combined species on this planet, and in the sky above, rests on your actions. Check your wristbands for your rotation of the tactical classes. Stand by your comrades, human and non-human, and we shall remain united and strong. Dismissed.”

  A nurse tapped Josie on the shoulder. Josie spun around, eyes wide, and hurried after the woman in ashen scrubs.

  “How’s Sergeant Panton?” Atana asked when they turned for the gym. Several shepherds bumped into her, muttering apologies.

  “Keeps trying to rip the IV out and get up.” Bennett corralled her with a protective arm keeping space between her and the other shepherds. “Can’t say I blame him. I fucking hate bed rest.”

  “They will kick him out when they think it’s safe. At least he can reach his IV, and he’s not strapped down.” Atana grimaced, muted colors of another memory obstructing her sight.

  A high and shrill scream echoed through the grungy room. Blood-spattered lights swung overhead. A Warruk tugged hard on the strap over her chest, collapsing her lungs, silencing her cry for mercy.

  To her right, Azure jerked on his slab. “Loosen it! She can’t breathe. You are going to kill her!”

  Water blurred her vision.

  The Warruk grunted in disgust and sauntered off, leaving her gasping for air and feebly reaching for the buckle darkening her vision.

  “Nakio?” Bennett’s soothing voice entered the black emptiness of her mind-space, filling it with warmth, alleviating the memory’s residual sting.

  Sahara. Azure tugged her back to reality, his baritone notes playing delicately between her ears.

  She blinked and looked up at Azure as he and Imara descended the stairs from Level One. He wasn’t listening to whatever Imara was saying. He was staring at her, eyes radiant with an emotion she couldn’t place.

  Breathe, Sahara; you’re holding your breath.

  Imara sealed her lips and followed Azure’s focus to her.

  The air burst from Atana’s lungs, and she drew in, glancing at the bustling shepherds around her. At some point during her drift, she’d stopped walking.

  “You okay?” Bennett ushered her off to the side. His gold eyes scanned between hers, his warm hands resting on her shoulders. Sincerity and concern pinched his brows. “Talk to me. Let me help.”

  They had so much to accomplish in the next week, she didn’t see the purpose in addressing the past and shook it from her thoughts. After we train this first class, I have to get back to work.

  Chapter 51

  BARE FEET THUMPED across the floor. Atana smiled to herself. Kios already knew she stood outside Rio’s bunk room. She hadn’t knocked.

  The metal locks retracted.

  “Nakio, come in!” Rio summoned her with a wave of his hand. He gestured toward the large bag on the floor. “I picked up a few things like you requested.”

  “Thank you.” She let the door close behind her. “Sorry, it took me so long. Our team had to train with Azure and Imara for a few hours.”

  “Kios is no burden.” Rio flashed her a look of a deep adoration.

  Feeling a warm pair of arms wrap around her thigh, Atana looked down. “Hi, Kios. Did you get to see lots of new things with Rio?”

  The boy nodded, pointing to the TV screen on Rio’s wall, his navy eyes wide with interest. Climbing back into the chair Rio had placed in front of it, Kios continued to study the moving picture.

  Atana observed the program as it shifted through images of the ocean. “What’s he watching?”

  Rio looked at the screen displaying a sea star in a tide pool. “The Adventures of Arrow. It’s a show for kids where a parrot named Arrow flies to different areas of the world and educates the viewer on the local wildlife a
nd geographical points of interest. It’s playing from a jump drive.”

  Sitting on his bed, he patted the taut surface of the sheets next to him. She joined him as requested.

  Rio tapped his wristband awake, sliding open a notes tab. “Kios said a few things I didn’t understand. I was curious what they meant.”

  “Fire at will.” Atana mused at Kios’s interest in the ocean program—him bobbing in the chair, eyes wide, mouth curled in a half-smile.

  “Lisano viia amah evus’ii. We were in the pod on the way to the house when the sun came up.”

  “Beautiful light in sky.” She looked dolefully down at her fingers. “I don’t think he’s ever seen the sun before.”

  “Good to know.” Rio typed in a translation. “Hu’te il yan.”

  “What is this?” she replied.

  “I figured so much. It snowed about six inches just before we got there. I picked up a handful and let him look at it.” Rio consulted the list again. “Miia Liat. Amras tus Miipa.”

  “Female tired. Children need father.”

  Rio rubbed his hands over his knees for a quiet moment. Her second instructor had always been a man of few, precise words but never one to fidget much. Leaning toward her, he lowered his voice. “I don’t think he saw Athia or the boys outside.”

  “Saema Chamarel said he was special. Maybe he’s clairvoyant?”

  He tapped a finger in thought. “Command’s been in constant contact over him but refuses to define why. We’ll have to keep him under close watch until we know for sure.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Last one: sim iitues veriat.”

  “I have family.” Atana broke her gaze on the young boy to look back at Rio. Kios didn’t have family. Saema had said they’d been killed by Linoans. Which meant he was either experiencing a grief hallucination, or he’d labeled someone incorrectly. “What was he doing when he said this?”

  Kios interjected, pointing at the TV. “Sahara, I want to see star—” He paused, his eyes vacantly changing positions. “Fish!”