“Cheo, we’re falling! Do something!”
“Yeah… we’re falling, but what can I do? Some distortion in the electromagnetic field has knocked out the control panel. Something’s gone wrong on this damn planet! We can’t jump out, we can’t even leave the cockpit—every door is jammed. And we’ve got absolutely no time left to fix anything.”
“And…?”
“There’s only one thing left, Annji,” Cheo said slowly, turning to the pale girl clinging to the back of the pilot’s chair with white-knuckled fingers, staring at him with wide, terrified gray eyes. But in Cheo’s small, dark eyes, there burned an unshakable resolve. His dark green, warty skin began to swell gradually.
He was a little older than this frightened human girl, but Ann was the closest person to him on this ship. Cheo hailed from a distant corner of the universe, a tiny planet called Rho, shrouded in watery mist. In his short life, he’d never spent a single day with his own kind, and he’d only ever seen his home planet from afar. His only family was his father, Tiar, his adopted brothers, and this old pirate ship. And right now, as Annji’s older brother, he wanted to protect her.
“You know I’m like an airbag. I’ll try to cushion the impact. Don’t be scared, little Ann!” Cheo wrapped his arms around her, inflating around the girl like a life preserver.
A deafening crash threw them violently to the side, slamming them mercilessly against a steel bulkhead. Their ship screeched and groaned as it tumbled across the planet’s surface, finally splitting in half with a bone-rattling impact against jagged rocks. The climax came with the turbine exploding, scorching everything around with its toxic green flames.
Ann came to, choking on dust and feeling Cheo’s body go limp beneath her. She struggled to push herself up, shoving aside the twisted wreckage. Cheo lay directly under her, showing no signs of life. Ann rolled to the side and slipped a hand under his shoulders, shaking him gently. The sound of her voice forced Cheo to look at his sister, and trembling, Ann pulled her bloodied hand from beneath him. Cheo’s eyes began to fade, turning glassy.
“Oh no, Cheo, no! It’s gonna be okay. I… I’ll find help. You… you’re not really gonna leave me. You can’t leave me here!” She cradled his head, pressing it to her chest.
Cheo mustered his last strength to reply:
“It’s fine. You’re a big girl now, you can take care of yourself. At least I saved you. Not a bad mission for a Rhoan, huh? Get out of here, find help—but for yourself. Hide among the humans. There’s gotta be a colony nearby if there are Imperial outposts in the area. Go, Ann!”
“No! I’m not leaving you, no! Cheo, don’t die, I’m begging you!” Helpless sobs tore from Ann’s chest. Cheo was the first family member she’d ever lost. Tiar hadn’t taught them how to lose; he’d drilled into them that they were one unit, the enduring legacy of an old space pirate, an indivisible whole. Cheo felt his beloved Ann’s pain and whispered softly:
“Hold on, Ann. You’re Tiar’s daughter. Dying isn’t scary—losing is. Sooner or later, Zur will find you. Fight for your life, for me…” Cheo fell silent, and his head went limp in Ann’s hands. For the first time in her life, she broke down completely, sobbing without restraint, clawing at the cursed ground of this planet in helpless despair.
The earth continued to tremble. A voice suddenly called out to her:
“Hey! Need help?”
But Ann didn’t respond, didn’t even turn around, still hunched over her brother’s lifeless body. A few minutes later, a hand shook her shoulder:
“We gotta get outta here, fast! You hear me? An eruption’s about to start, and you’re sitting right at the base of a volcano. Get up!” A woman tugged at Ann insistently.
“I need to bury him!” Ann snapped, brushing her off, her face tear-streaked and defeated, but the woman yanked her harder.
“Are you out of your mind?! The lava will bury him! Right now, you need to think about staying alive. The Empire sent soldiers to help us; everyone’s evacuating Targo. This planet’s too unstable to live on—it’s dangerous. Or do you wanna join your dead friend?”
“He was my brother,” Ann replied, her voice thick with pain. She didn’t notice the surprise in the woman’s eyes; her gaze was still locked on Cheo’s frozen face. There was something unbearable in the fact that she’d never see him again. Rage and grief tore at her soul, knowing she couldn’t change a thing. What a terrible, hopeless word—“never.”
The woman was human, likely a colonist. There were countless such colonies, scattered across galaxies conquered by the Empire, populated by volunteers like this tanned, dark-haired, wiry young woman. Her words only confirmed Ann’s assumption.
“I’ve lived here for three years—three miserable, exhausting years. This planet isn’t for humans. Maybe now they’ll finally get that. My name’s Lika. Let’s move if you wanna make it to the last Imperial ship!”
***
“This is Avatar-2. All third-rank officers are to report to the mess hall immediately. I repeat, all officers not currently on assignment are to report to the mess hall for an urgent briefing!”
Eli sighed heavily and dragged himself out of bed. In the corridor, another young man in a standard gray uniform caught up with him.
“So, Eli, did we get any sleep?”
“Don’t even start, Boon. Who cares that we just got back from a mission an hour ago? I can’t even remember the last time I got a full night’s rest!”
“Quit pretending. Who’s the one always volunteering for these missions?!” Boon grinned, clapping his buddy on the shoulder. “Just admit you’re trying to climb the ranks!”
“Not at all. I just wanna hit second rank and stand in the command bridge, not run through corridors every time an alarm goes off. I wanna pilot an ‘Ark,’ not a ‘Tomahawk,’ and have a crew that answers to me and me alone. And, eventually, I wanna sleep.”
“Aren’t your ambitions a bit high, Officer Eli Bosch?” Boon raised an eyebrow mockingly, peering into his friend’s smiling blue eyes.
The officers in the mess hall froze as the first-rank commanders entered.
“Officers! We’ve received orders from the commander to dispatch rescue teams to Targo. We need to evacuate all personnel and valuable equipment. ‘Arks’ can’t get close enough to the planet—too much instability in the field. So, we’re sending ‘Tomahawks.’ Seismic activity on Targo is spiking rapidly; volcanoes could erupt at any moment. Every minute counts. We’re already approaching the safe distance. You’ve got twenty minutes until launch. One more thing… The commander of Avatar-2 has ordered special commendations for certain officers who performed exceptionally in the last two missions. On the mobile base Avatar-1, they’ll be assigned family quarters and recommended for the reproductive program. These officers are Eli Bosch, Boon Chetman, Harry Ply, and Peter Mitchell. Your profiles have been reviewed by our geneticists, and your service to the Empire has solidified our decision. Consider this another order. Your children will be exceptional warriors, and the Empire needs reliable soldiers. You’re dismissed! Prepare for launch!”
“Climbed the ranks, huh? Damn it!” Eli muttered, jerking his hand in frustration as he headed down the corridor to the lower deck. “What does this even mean? I don’t wanna be a dad! Stop laughing, Boon, this isn’t funny!”
“Why not? It’s pretty hilarious. They’ll assign us girls from the breeding program who’ve been waiting for heroes like us, and we’ll make little Eli-juniors and Boon-juniors, ready to fight for the Empire to the bitter end!” Boon smirked crookedly, fastening the top button of his collar.
“No, what I ‘love’ is that it’s an order. They’re rewarding our service with this idiotic command!”
“Don’t lose hope, buddy! At least we’ll leave a mark on this universe!”
“So, what do we do now?” Eli stopped abruptly, glaring at his friend in frustration.
“Do we have a choice, Eli? Looks like we’re getting married!” Boon shrugged. “On the bright side, others will be jealous. Soldiers don’t get personal lives without special orders from the commander. The Empire’s doing us a favor here.” He flashed another ironic grin. “But first, let’s get these poor souls off Targo!”
***
“You know what’s the worst part?” Lika turned to the pensive, somber Ann. “The worst part is they’ll just lock you up in some godforsaken place again, on some far-off planet, and make you work for the Empire’s benefit. I’m so tired of drifting through galaxies. Why are you so quiet? You’re always quiet! Look, we got lucky—we made it onto the last shuttle!”
“This is a military ‘Tomahawk’ ship. Shuttles couldn’t handle the magnetic distortions,” Ann replied flatly, almost mechanically.
Lika studied the thoughtful girl with her short, boyish haircut, impossibly pale skin, and large, sad gray eyes framed by long, dark lashes. She seemed so fragile and vulnerable that, for a moment, the pragmatic, hardened woman felt a pang of sympathy.
“Do you have family, Ann?”
Ann didn’t answer, staring blankly ahead, and Lika continued:
“It’d be nice to get to Avatar-1 base and sign up for the reproductive program. Life there is way calmer than in remote colonies where you’re never sure of your safety, surrounded by primitive civilizations. At the base, the Empire takes care of you. Don’t you agree?” But Ann didn’t respond this time either, and Lika decided her silence meant agreement. Who wouldn’t agree with common sense?
***
“Wait, I don’t get it—where are they sending us?!” Ann shot an indignant look at the completely calm Lika, who had taken it upon herself to look after her.
“Everyone brought from Targo was examined by doctors. They told me we’ve got excellent reproductive stats, and I, taking advantage of this lucky break and their leniency toward survivors, signed us up for the breeding program. We’ve got tickets to Avatar-1 base. My prayers have been answered!”
“What?! What… what have you done?! When did you even manage this? Who gave you the right to decide my life?!” Ann’s eyes flashed with alarm. “I don’t wanna be a breeding cow for the Empire! You’re out of your mind, lady!”
Ann spun on her heel and bolted, casting anxious glances at the signs mapping out the ship’s compartments. She turned right and collided with an officer walking toward her.
“Watch where you’re going!” she snapped angrily, trying to sidestep him, but another officer suddenly blocked her path.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Unlike you, we weren’t running around like scalded roaches! What’s the rush—fire or an alarm?” Boon raised an eyebrow with his usual sarcasm.
“An alarm,” Ann hissed through gritted teeth. “Where can I find the person in charge of civilian programs? Answer me, now!”
Boon exchanged a glance with Eli and smirked:
“Pretty bossy! But how would us military types know about civilian programs? If someone’s messed with you, maybe we could help,” he offered with mock helpfulness.
“I don’t need protecting, clown! I just asked where I can find the person recruiting for the breeding program!”
“What, can’t wait to sign up?”
“Are all military officers this stupid?” Ann felt herself boiling with rage.
“Not all of us,” Eli chimed in. “I can answer very clearly and politely, you crazy Targo refugee, that we have no idea where this wonderful person is. Don’t you remember me? I piloted the ‘Tomahawk’ that got you out last.”
“Sorry, but I don’t make a habit of checking out pilots. Thanks for the help. Can I go now?” Her steely, angry eyes met his calm blue ones.
“On one condition. I’m dying to know what’s got you so worked up about finding this person.”
“Are you mocking me?” She shook her head in frustration. “Some idiot signed me up for this program by mistake, and I want my name taken off the list, ASAP! Got it?!”
“Crystal clear,” Eli said, stepping aside to let her pass.
“There’s your perfect match,” Boon remarked, watching her storm off. “You two are even alike.”
“How are we alike, clown?” Eli shrugged, annoyed.
“Well, for starters, neither of you wants anything to do with the reproductive program.”