There was only one thing left to do. Only one way to stop the bloodbath riding on the commander’s orders. Eri slipped from the arm and landed on her feet.
The pink brain tank stood unprotected at the ship’s helm, the commander’s umbilical cord to the controls. Eri launched herself toward it. She leapt to the pedestal and kicked with the heel of her boot. The outer level of the glass cracked.
Pain streaked down the back of her head and she fell to the floor. One of the broken robotic arms had hit her. Eri touched her face. A streak of warm blood ran down her cheek. The arm came at her again, and she pulled herself back as it crashed into the floor between her legs where her stomach had been.
She forced herself up and kicked at the tank again. The crack widened, and the brain shuddered with the force, but the glass didn’t break. Eri ducked the robotic arm and came around the other side. Both arms followed her, and she slipped onto her knees and skidded underneath their broken fingers as they met in the middle. One of the arms snagged her tunic and lifted her off the floor.
Eri kicked her legs and reached behind her neck, trying to dislodge from the arm. It swung her back and forth until her tunic tore and she flew across the room. Eri smashed against the main viewing panel and slid down in a heap. Stars blossomed in her eyes and the room darkened.
No.
She blinked back the pain and shook her pounding head. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the metal arms coming for her.
Get up.
Eri stumbled to standing, fighting dizziness, and circled to the other end of the room. She gave herself a running start, gaining momentum, and hurled herself in the air. She kicked the glass with both feet.
The tank shattered and cold embryonic fluid flowed over her. The lights went out as the ship’s power fluctuated. Eri fell and her head smacked the chrome floor, knocking the air from her lungs. The commander’s brain bounced beside her and oozed liquid onto the floor, deflating into mushy flesh with a long sigh, as if centuries of pressure, hate, and revenge finally abated. The room stank of pungent chemicals, and Eri covered her nose, hoping she wasn’t too late.
…
Striver tightened his grip on the arrow, scanning the crowd of men.
Who will shoot first?
The colonists looked wary and anxious, not knowing what to believe. They’d followed the commander their whole lives, and Striver knew they couldn’t disobey her now. But would they fire against their own lieutenant?
Whatever the case, he’d take out as many as he could before the lasers blasted him away. Anything to give his villagers a chance to escape. But deep down, he knew the laser’s range and the length of battlefield stretching out before the cover of the forest. No one would stand a chance.
Glancing at the sky, he saw Phoenix circling with the other Guardians, perhaps deciding when to intervene. Arrows poked from his torso, and he flew in crooked arcs.
Don’t try it, old friend. Stay in the sky where it’s safe.
The colonists’ locators blinked off, depowering. They glanced at their arms, and Striver wondered if he should take his chances and start shooting. But he didn’t want to be the one to start the war. His father’s words came back to him:
Wait for opportunity to show itself.
His arm muscles screamed in agony, yet he held the arrow cocked, waiting to fire.
The locators beeped back on again. Eri’s voice rang out. Striver couldn’t believe it.
“Drop your weapons. There will be no more fighting.” Her voice was deeper and more confident than the last time he’d spoken with her.
The men gave each other questioning looks. “Who is that?”
“That’s not the commander.”
“Commander Grier is dead, leaving Litus Muller in charge. You are to follow him for further orders.”
The transmission clicked off and everyone stared. Litus raised his gun. “You heard her. Drop your weapons. This ends now.”
“The commander can’t be dead,” someone shouted from the back of the crowd.
Striver whispered to Litus, “Is there any way to prove it?”
Litus nodded. “Check your locaters. See if she registers.”
Striver’s arm began to shake, and he willed it to hold. Who knew what really happened to the commander? Maybe Eri was bluffing?
“It’s blank,” someone called out.
“She’s not registering,” another voice answered.
“What do we do?” A man in the front row lowered his weapon.
Litus’s shoulders eased. “You follow me, that’s what you do. As the first lieutenant, I’m in charge now, and I’m telling you all to drop your weapons or I’ll have to open fire.”
A young woman in the front dropped her laser. “I don’t want to die here today. I have kids and a husband, and all I want to do is start my new life.” The men beside her did the same. Striver gave Carven a nod, and the villagers behind them lowered their bows. When the entire team of colonists had obeyed, Litus placed his weapon in the ash at his feet. Striver dropped his bow and the shaft bounced once before falling to the ground. Standing before Litus, he bowed until his hair brushed the ash.
“You kept your word, and for that I am forever in your debt.”
“It is us who are in your debt.” Litus bowed. “Without your help we would have never won this war.”
“A truce, then, between our two peoples?”
Litus shook his head. “More than a truce; a friendship, a cohabitation that will strengthen both sides.”
They shook hands, and the colonists and villagers around them cheered. A profound sense of resolution trickled through Striver like warm summer rain. He’d secured Refuge for his people. Aries and Striker would be proud. He hoped, somewhere in the nether land of that golden liquid dimension, Weaver and his father were proud as well, and that they found peace in their hearts.
A woman wearing a colonist’s uniform, much like the one Aries wore in the pictures he’d seen on the
S.P. Nautilus
, ran up to Litus and wrapped her arms around his neck.
That must be Eri’s half sister. Holy Refuge, she doesn’t look like Eri at all.
Litus slid his arms around her waist and whispered, “I love you.”
They started to kiss, and Striver turned away, giving them their privacy. His people celebrated around him, yet an emptiness he didn’t think would ever be filled sat in the pit of his stomach. People shouted in triumph, while others knelt beside their fellow comrades in mourning. So many of them gave their lives for the survivors to live free. He only hoped this peace lasted throughout the eons on Refuge.
A figure emerged on the ramp of the ship. The small person waved and ran toward the battlefield.
Eri?
Ignoring his aching muscles, he sprinted to meet her. The ship’s light illuminated a head of curly pink hair. Striver increased his pace, kicking up ash and jumping over a wall of fire. They collided into each other’s arms, and for the first time in his life, he felt complete.
He ran his hands up her back to her neck and through her hair, as if convincing himself she was real. She placed both her hands on his cheeks and pulled his face to hers, kissing him fiercely.
The fires burning around him didn’t compare to the flames raging in his heart. Eri ran her hands down his neck to his bare chest, sneaking underneath his open shirt. Her touch ignited heat until he felt like his whole body was on fire.
He needed her so badly he could barely stop for air. She quelled the pain inside him and unleashed a primal urge to be close. He felt the curves of her waist and drew her against him, losing himself in waves of desire.
Eri pulled away from him, breaking the kiss. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
He placed small kisses on her cheek and her neck, wanting to travel back to her lips. “Don’t worry. I know about Delta Slip.”
“It’s not about Delta Slip.” The storm brewing in her eyes held him back. “It’s about Weaver.”
He stopped as if she’d stuck a knife in his gut. The pain returned in full force, knocking him back a step. “He’s gone, Eri.”
“I know.” Eri ran a hand through her hair, worry creasing her forehead as if what she’d tell him would change everything. “He died because of me.”
Her words sucked the air out of his lungs. “What do you mean?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to. I was lecturing him about taking responsibility, being a better person. When we got to the battle, I needed a diversion to get onto the ship and stop the commander. He attacked Jolt so I could make it on board, so I could save you.”
That’s why Weaver took on Jolt all by himself.
A wall of emotion hit Striver, overcoming him with melancholy. He was right about his brother. Weaver had been a good man, and he’d died a hero—he’d just needed the right circumstance to prove it. Striver grasped Eri’s arms to stay upright. “I knew he’d do the right thing.”
Eri stared into his gaze, giving him strength. “There’s more.”
Striver looked at her. What could she possibly tell him that would ease the pain? Did he want to hear it? No matter—he had to, or he’d always wonder. “Go on.”
“He gave me a message before he took off into battle.” She took a deep breath. “He said to tell you he’s sorry.”
The breath caught in Striver’s throat. For so long he’d wanted his brother’s love, and there it was in two words.
He’s sorry
. The world swayed around him, the emotion so strong he couldn’t hold it back.
“Striver, I wish I hadn’t judged him. I’m so sorry.”
“No. Don’t be sorry.” Striver glanced up at the sky as if his brother resided in the stars. “This is long-awaited news.”
“Fire!” Striver pointed to the cliff above the cave and Litus’s army of colonists raised their lasers, releasing a cascade of loose rocks. The earth rumbled under his feet as the debris slid and settled. Dust wafted up, pluming above their heads until Striver couldn’t see anything but his own hands in front of his eyes.
“Halt!” The laser fire stopped, and Striver waited for the dust to disperse. He needed the time for his own emotions to settle, time to say good-bye.
The clouds thinned around him, the world coming back into focus. A pile of rocks filled the entrance to the cave. Striver stepped over the rubble and placed a purple blossom, Weaver’s favorite, on a center boulder.
He’d tried so hard to keep Weaver beside him all these years, and his brother had fought against it. He should have let Weaver pave his own path instead of suffocating him. It had been a month since the battle, and now Striver had to let him go.
Rest in peace, Weaver, and good luck, wherever you are.
Phoenix stepped from the dust cloud behind him. His torso was bandaged in two places, where arrows had hit him in the sky. He would have died that day but thanks to a regenerator from the
Heritage
, he was recovering quickly. Soon, he’d be able to fly again. Striver looked forward to taking another trip into the sky. “You don’t regret sealing off the cave? What if it’s the only way to contact Weaver?”
“Not at all.” Striver shook his head. “As much as I want to see him again, I know not to mess with time. What’s done is done, and we have to look at building our future, not to the mistakes of our past.”
Phoenix nodded, folding his long arms to his chest. “If it wasn’t for your lack of feathers, I would have thought you to be one of us.”
Striver laughed. Yes, he’d gained wisdom in the last few months, but he was far from lecturing anyone on the subject. “You will assign a Guardian to watch over it, won’t you?”
“Of course. This will stop people from entering the cave, but the substance still oozes through the ground every so often. The golden liquid is part of this planet, as much as the water and the air.”
“We’ll deal with it when it happens.” Striver put a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder, for the first time reassuring the Guardian. “For now, we are safe.”
“Spoken like a true leader. You have grown into your own, Striver, son of Tallis, descendant of Aries and Striker.”
Striver took a deep breath. A question he’d never had the courage to ask lingered on his tongue. “You knew them. Would they approve of what’s happened? The direction this colony is headed…”
Phoenix glanced up to the sky where a swillow wisp perched on a mountain ridge. “They would be proud.” He ruffled the feathers on his back and took a seat on a rock, bending his long, branchlike legs. “Sometimes I miss them. They were like parents to me. After I broke free of my shell, I leaped into the rays of the sun, spreading my wings for the first time. When I looked down, Aries stood in the meadow, watching me fly with a joyous smile on her face, her arms reaching toward the sky.”
Striver hung on every word. Rarely did the Guardians speak of their first days on Refuge, and never such personal memories or feelings of their own.
Phoenix drew a circle in the sand, then a tree with branches spiraling out: the Guardian symbol for
legacy
. “But whenever I grow saddened, all I need to do is look at you.”
To have a Guardian open up and share such a touching sentiment was unheard of. Speechless, Striver took a seat next to Phoenix. He bent over and, using the tip of his finger, traced his own symbol in the sand. His strokes were much fatter and clumsier than Phoenix’s perfect lines, but the image was clear: two branches intertwining, the Guardian symbol for
friend
.
Phoenix trilled a soft tune. Perhaps he was impressed by Striver’s knowledge of their language, or maybe he found the gesture just as meaningful. Phoenix scratched his feathered head. “Do you think the people in your village and the colonists will get along?”
Striver sighed and shook his head. “Let’s hope so. The ceremony tomorrow will be a step in the right direction.”
“Something tells me intergalactic relations are not the reason why you’re going through with it.”
Striver laughed and the heavy weight of the day’s task dissipated. He winked at Phoenix. “Guardians always know the underlying truths.”
…