by Vi Voxley
"Remember, leave the dropship immediately when it lands," Harbor told her. "The Eridons might target it. I chose one for you that will survive even that, but just to be sure. Cole and I will be with you the moment we can."
"Alright," Riley said, nodding her head, stepping into the small ship, "I trust you. I–"
Another explosion rocked the bay, this time a much worse one. Cole was thrown heavily against the dropship, and Riley was torn from his side. The doors of the dropship closed before Cole could jump in. The last ten seconds counted away as he and Harbor looked through the small hatch to see the most horrible sight they'd ever seen.
The shock wave had knocked Riley right against the back wall of the dropship. Their fated, their very heart, was lying in a pool of her own blood, unconscious and unmoving.
A roar escaped Cole's chest as he and Harbor jumped back to avoid getting stuck in the air lock of the dropship. They watched the doors close and then the dropship was gone along with Riley.
There were so many things going on at once and so many things for him to do. The explosions had seriously damaged Harbor's ship and its fighting abilities. Magorra was still out there somewhere, no doubt the mastermind of the attacks and now directly responsible for Riley's injury. The raid needed to be stopped and the mystery of the sneak attack solved.
Cole opened his comm link to his officers on Octava.
"Find the dropship," he growled to them, his voice rough from the smoke. "If she dies, I will burn the League to the ground."
He looked up, expecting Harbor to argue sense and logic and reason. There was only pure, feral fury in his dark gray eyes.
They turned to the fight, heading right where Cole had seen Magorra last. Without a thought in their head, without a shred of mercy, without any plans for the future past the point of finding out if their fated had survived. Plotting bloody revenge on the Eridons and the League.
On the same page at last.
12
Riley
Three years later...
Riley opened her eyes.
Her first reaction was complete and utter panic because it actually took her a long second to remember what her eyes were for. With terrifying slowness, she remembered the function of the rest of her limbs and organs. Her rapid breathing slowed a little and the scream died on her lips.
A young woman rushed into the room. She was a tall redhead, her eyes as crimson as the fiery flock of hair. With a concerned expression, she ran right to her bedside.
Bed. I'm in a bed. Where am I?
The woman looked at her nervously, which did absolutely nothing to calm Riley's nerves. She wanted to say something, demand an explanation, but she didn't honestly know where to begin. Everything was covered in deep, gray fog, even her own name.
The words Riley North written on the back cover of some book appeared before her eyes as the strange woman poked at her a little, shining a light in her eyes which she quickly swapped away.
"Stop," Riley murmured.
Her voice felt weird, broken and raspy like she hadn't been using it for a long while.
"You are awake," the woman said and she didn't quite manage to hide the surprise in her voice.
Then she seemed to recover and adapted a more confident facade. Riley preferred that.
"I am Doalle," the woman said. "I am a healer. You have been in a coma for a long while and I will explain everything to you in a minute. First... You are in the best healing center of my people, right in the heart of Taria. Does that mean anything to you?"
The vision of a great city swam before Riley's eyes, making her a little dizzy. She remembered the voice of some man, glowing oddly like he was speaking to her through a sparkling filter. Something about the planet Octava. Gargons. Taria. The connections rushed back but they were disconnected and blurry.
"I'm still on Octava," she said carefully. "Gargons. Are you a Gargon?"
Doalle smiled, clearly relieved.
"Yes," she said with an approving look. "Very good. Yes, I am a Gargon. Most of the staff here are, but you should know that we brought in some Terran consultants just for you to make sure we got human physiology right. There was a lot of work to be done."
"What..." Riley began, trying to remember what had happened to her.
Thinking hurt.
"What happened to me?" she asked. "Why am I here? W-Why does my voice sound so weird?"
Now Doalle definitely avoided looking her right in the eyes.
"I am not entirely sure I'm the right person to tell you that," she said. "Please let me make sure you are perfectly alright before we get into that."
She turned away from Riley for a second and walked out of the room, calling someone. That gave Riley a second to look around. The room she was in really did resemble a hospital or a healing center which was what the Gargons called them. It was white and well-aired and looked as homey as it was possible to be.
There were odd little plants on the window stills, some personal items Riley didn't remember owning. A chair, a table, a great wide holoscreen supposedly connected to some tablet. There was a closet, too. And on the nightstand beside her bed, flowers and a drawing of a little girl with two giants next to her and a woman floating above them.
Riley leaned closer to look better, every inch of her body resisting, when Doalle came back, looking somewhere behind her.
"Call the commanders!" she instructed with a voice that said she'd had to repeat that for a few times now.
"Now," Doalle said while Riley's mind was struggling to put two and two together. "Miss North. How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been run over," Riley said honestly, falling back on the mountain of pillows. "My eyes hurt. My throat hurts. I can barely lift my hands."
Doalle frowned.
"Can't lift or can't feel?" she asked.
"Can't lift," Riley said, trying to move herself a little, finding her body very disagreeable. "They're still there. Just tired, like I've just finished a marathon race."
"Good," Doalle said and there was that relief again. "And your legs?"
Riley gave it a shot. Her legs were there too, hurting numbly just like the rest of her. It wasn't even pain, specifically. More like tremendous exhaustion tingling in her flesh, making her feel like she'd just been swept up in a tornado.
"We need to run a few more tests, but..." Doalle started saying.
Riley cut in, raising one weak hand.
"Time for my questions now," she said sharply. " How did I get here? I remember some kind of an explosion. Did I crash with the dropship?"
Doalle was looking so uncomfortable Riley almost took pity on the healer. She didn’t really have the energy to interrogate anyone anyway.
"Yes," she admitted. "Miss North, I really think I should..."
"Am I okay?" Riley pressed on. "You can tell me that much at least. Did I suffer any really bad injuries? You said you needed the help of Terran consultants."
"That is correct," Doalle said, throwing herself on that piece of information like a lifeline. "I believe you are physically well, yes. The trauma might have left some marks on you that we couldn't find with the scans, but be assured we will run every test possible. As soon as you feel better, we can start making sure you didn't suffer any long-term damage."
Riley looked at the woman, her mind racing. It hurt to think that much, which was increasingly annoying since she was burning with curiosity, but it was slowly getting better. Now she could think without losing her eyesight.
"I get the feeling you're hiding something from me," Riley said seriously. "My mind is a bit foggy right now. Correct me if I'm wrong, but is hiding things from people who've just woken up from a concussion of some sort standard practice?"
Doalle made a face that said she desperately wanted to say something snappy but she bit her lip.
"It's not," she admitted. "I will answer any questions you have, Miss North, but it's my opinion we should wait for the commanders to get here. There are some things that are
just not my place to say. And while honesty is vital with patients who've woken up from a coma, giving them shocking news isn't standard practice either."
"Shocking news," Riley repeated.
Coma? What the hell…
"I shouldn't have said that," Doalle said miserably, sighing then. "Alright. Miss North, let me just say this, then. You have been in a coma for a long time."
"How long?"
"Long enough for you to feel a bit disoriented when I give you the number," Doalle replied.
"Try me."
"Miss North..."
Riley gave her a hard look, hoping it worked as well as it used to. Slowly but surely, people and images were returning to her. The glowing man was Rowan, her editor, and the halo around him was the perpetual screen light of the tablet. Riley honestly couldn't remember if she'd ever seen Rowan in real life.
She still couldn't remember any specifics about the explosion. There had been a large ship and a small one, a dropship. Riley thought she was supposed to get on it when a shock wave blasted her right into it.
Around that memory, a lot was missing. Like how she got there, and why had she come to Octava in the first place?
"The truth, please."
Doalle sighed, looking at her with exasperation.
"You have been in a coma for three years, Miss North," she said.
A long silence set. As Riley's jaw hit the floor – or would have hit if her bed wasn't in the way and Terran physiology worked that way – Doalle had the decency not to say "I told you so".
"Three years," Riley repeated, understanding now why her voice was so hoarse.
The healer nodded.
The number bounced around in Riley's head, finding no ground to stick to. The massive scale of that period dropped on her like the sky, weighing her down. She felt bitter, salty tears in her eyes. Her hands clenched as she fought with everything she had not to scream out loud.
Three years was... insane. It was enough time to build a life. To wage a war or write a book about it. Three books, maybe. To travel through the entire Alliance and every known colony it had, at least most of it.
It was time, precious, glorious time – the only commodity in life no one could replace or get back. Now Riley was told she'd lost three years doing nothing but sleeping.
She could feel it now. Her fit body was gone. Naturally she hadn't gained weight during the coma, but she was definitely out of shape, like a pile of loose bones surrounded by skin.
That was fine. Health could be regained. Workouts would take care of her body. Nutrition, therapy – Riley was prepared for it all. The only thing she couldn't get back were the hours she could have spent with... her fateds.
And just like that, Harbor and Cole were back in her memories, standing tall and proud. She saw the blast throw them away from her, the last she'd seen of her commanders, men she’d only known scarce hours yet who were burned in her mind now.
Riley looked at Doalle sharply, ready to ask her about them when she stopped.
There was no need for her to ask about her fateds when they were right there, looking at her like she was a miracle they'd never expected to see.
On any other day, in any other universe or all of its parallels, Riley would have stared at them too.
On that day, she barely noticed them.
Her eyes were nailed to the little girl standing between them, with bright sharp gray hawk-eyes. Just like hers.
13
Harbor
She's awake. My fated is okay.
The thought refused to take root in his heart despite the fact it was the only thing Harbor had wanted for three years now. Every day, the commander had dropped by to see if Riley was awake, hearing the healers repeat again and again that it was too dangerous to try and wake her artificially.
For three years, she'd technically been alive, breathing and showing proper brain function, just never opening those mesmerizing eyes of hers.
Instead, Harbor had seen the same eyes looking at him in someone else's face. His daughter had been the reason why he kept going staunchly, doing his best not to think of the possibility Riley was never going to rouse from her long sleep. It even had him make an effort to get along with Cole the best he could, both for their daughter and their fated.
It didn’t always work, however.
To see her now, it was indescribable. The look of shock in her eyes was to be expected, but that wasn't the only reason why it made Harbor's pulse race furiously. Already he could see her temper flaring, ready to take on the world that had robbed her of time spent with her daughter... and Cole and him as well.
The reason why the healers had refused to try and wake her was because they deemed the threat to her memories too great. Riley needed to come back to them on her own or there was a chance the woman who returned to them was her only in name due to her injuries.
With a quick swipe of his hand, Harbor sent the healer away. He could feel his daughter squeeze his hand, her little heart beating fast as well.
The three of them stepped into the room and the door slid closed behind them.
Riley hadn't even blinked. Tears were now rolling down her cheeks and two hands raised weakly, almost like she didn't know what she was doing.
"This is Mya," he said, his deep voice filled with emotion. "She has waited a long time to meet you, Riley."
As much as he wanted to dash over to her, Harbor stayed where he was, a few feet from Riley's bed. Cole did the same. Both had been warned by the healers – more sharply than most Gargons dared to talk to them – that they needed to be careful with their fated, in body and in mind.
None of that applied to Mya. The bond between Cole, Harbor and Riley could wait to be reignited while their fated met her child for the first time.
The look on Mya's face was amazed as she slowly approached, still not letting go of Harbor's hand. The commander took a step closer and lifted the girl up easily, setting her down on Riley's bed. His fated was still reaching for her daughter, her fingers inches from Mya now.
For a second, Harbor was afraid that the shock would be too much for Mya, too. That the girl would be too scared to meet her mother.
Then Mya jumped into her mother's arms and they closed around her, protective and sure despite trembling, the truest sight of love Harbor had ever seen. He could hear Riley's quiet, deep sobs that racked her entire body as she hugged Mya as close to herself as it was possible to be.
When mother and daughter finally disentangled themselves from their first embrace, Riley's eyes were red but alive. She looked at Mya as though she was the most precious thing in the world, which Harbor wholeheartedly agreed with. He had two jewels in his life, both dearer to him than his own life.
"Are you back, Mommy?" Mya asked carefully, her big eyes never leaving Riley.
His fated gasped, a desperate, heartfelt sound escaping her throat. Her gaze flicked to Harbor who answered it with a small smile.
He and Cole had made every effort to let Mya know that she had a mother, telling her over and over again what little they knew of Riley. It came down to the emotions she had incited in them at the core of it, but thankfully that was enough for a child of so few years.
"Yes," Riley said breathlessly. "I am. And you are my daughter. My child..."
She trailed off.
"When are you coming home, Mommy?" Mya asked with all the innocence of a child. "You have a room there. Do you want to see my room? I have a picture of you there."
Riley stared at her, pink lips opening and closing. Harbor wondered if they should explain to Riley that half-Gargon babies developed more quickly, that her daughter was more mature than Terran children of same age.
In all honest, Riley barely seemed to notice. The expression on her face switched between smiling and such deep sadness that it was impossible to bear witness to it.
Harbor reacted to a quick hand signal from Cole.
"Easy there, Mya," he said, taking a step closer. "Your Mommy has just woken up.
She needs to rest a bit and then we can talk about what will happen next. You should go to class now and later you can come back to see how Mommy is doing."
Riley's eyes flew wide in her head and she tightened her hold on Mya, who was shaking her head too.
"What?" she asked sharply. "No. I don't want her to leave. I only just met her. I need to know everything, ask her everything. I want to see that picture!"
The desperation, the raw fear in her eyes was exactly what the healers had warned about. Keeping in mind that Mya was still in the room, Harbor tread carefully.
"I'm not trying to take her away from you, Riley," he said calmly. "She really does have a class, we just pulled her from there. She likes it there. It's specifically meant for half-Gargon children, to teach our customs, language and way of life to them.
"She can come back this evening, we promise. Right now, though, like you said – you have many questions. Perhaps it's better if Cole and I take a few of the harder ones and then you can spend time with Mya in peace."
It seemed to be working. Even Cole managed an encouraging nod to him, saying he was pleased with the way Harbor was handling the situation. It was a rare sight.
Mya's eyes were bright too – she really did love her little play hour where she could meet other children and learn with them.
Most importantly, Riley was slowly calming. The fierce grip around Mya's shoulders was relaxing and her eyes were clear once more.
For a moment there, Harbor had feared the worst. The healers had – risking their life and limb – lectured Cole and him extensively.
"The first meeting," Doalle had stressed, "is the most important. Most vital. It will lay the foundation for her healing. The shock of having a child will be severe. We can't know how she will react, but it will be extreme, as if the missing several years drop on her all at once.
“I consider it very unlikely that she'll reject her daughter. Nothing in her medical record speaks of any reason why she would. The opposite is more likely.