HMS Valediction

Chapter 25.3

We're collected by a busy, twitchy creature galloping toward us on ten short, wobbly legs. It chitters at Moon for a minute before scurrying out of our room. Following at a distance, we're joined by other teams dressed in a multitude of colors and textiles from the galaxy. I don't pay attention to them—I'm on a mission.

Moon takes the lead and we fall in line—Nuna at the rear with her starboard at her side. The myriad of species parading through the streets carry their rifles in different positions—some over their heads, some at their sides, some hold it out in front of them and aim for the sky. It's odd to see how differently we learned to do the same exact thing.

The procession moves to an enormous circular room. More twitchy creatures crowd the entrance, pointing us toward the direction of our station against the wall. As they fuss over our posture, helmets, and atmosphere suits, I scan the room so to know my enemies. There are fifty-five us here. Fifty-four other teams to leave in my dust collapsing in my wake. A Reaper completes her mission. A Reaper fears nothing.

Calm settles over my skin. The three of us must appear as stone carvings as we wait, unmoving, silent, and poised. The teams around us fidget, showboat, and gurgle out war cries I can't understand but recognize anyway.

The platform under our feet jostles and descends. We're lowered, all fifty-five teams. Despite being confined in my suit, the atmosphere crackles—I feel it snapping against my skin, filling my pores with energy.

We are submerged in darkness. I can hear Nuna's soft breath in my comms, reminding me that I'm not alone. I feel comfortable here in the black nothingness with a team at my side. I forget that I am Janika Lorn, prisoner, shamed Commander of an abducted people and broken ship. In this moment, it doesn't matter who or what I am.

The Reaper emerges.

And she's so glad to finally have a chance to stretch.

The lights flicker on and I stumble forward as my brain registers the incorrect position of my body to the floor and ceiling. I can't figure out if I'm standing on a floor or a wall.

Nuna's hand slips into mine again. She nods at me, her lips in a grim line. I nod in response. She squeezes my hand and releases me, but the tingle from her touch lingers, infiltrating my gloves and soaking into my bones. I grow warm.

The small, gray room holds nothing but a boxy ship idling in the corner. Nuna places her board on the ground and steps on, igniting the engines underneath. Removing her paddle, she locks her feet into place and offers me a hand up. Before accepting it, I watch Moon walk behind us to the same single-passenger ship I saw smashing into stone walls in the replay.

Moon pauses, rubs the gold plate embedded in his temple, and speaks through our comms. "Don't die."

Shock rips through me. It's so similar to my customary farewell with Simon, I do a double-take just to make sure my father's not back there whispering secret code to Moon.

My response passes my lips before I have a chance to stop it. "I'll try." Old habits.

Behind me, Nuna wiggles into position. She's poised to speed us out of here.

"Hey," I say into the comms against my cheek. "Not to bring this up now or anything, but how many times have you two done this before?"

"Once," Nuna says.

"And it was a tragedy," Moon says.

I lift the rifle higher on my chest, tucking it closer to me. "Good. That's good to know. Great."

A light appears ahead of us. I dig deeper, clenching my core, holding my center of gravity. Unfamiliar symbols made of thin strands like string blinks, changes shape, blinks again, and suddenly, a horn blast out a high-pitched whine. The doors before us fall open.