I think of how much I despise my father for controlling and stifling our people, how he refuses Storms as if we could wish them away. But they are as much a part of us as our souls, hearts, bodies, and minds. And he does not deserve to be king of our mothership. No monster like him or any of the other kings with his agenda should be.
Electricity crackles over my body, down my arms, and into the power cell. It rips over the hull and into the grid, bursting cells and shields and shutting down engines and guns.
The berserker falls fast. The cell beneath me smokes and crackles.
As the ship smashes into the planet’s surface, Fieri and Blaize appear. They land on the hull not far from me.
When the dust settles, Blaize laughs and shakes his head. “Flattened them, Aura.”
“The others are tucking tail.” Fieri nods toward the sky. “Want us to clear the berserker?”
Vybron and the others from Amphir join us. “We will assist.”
“Sure. I want to check on the troops,” I say, ripping the burned power cell out and toting it with me as evidence against the use of my Storm.
Vybron steps in front of me. He won’t touch me because I’m Royal, and he knows it. Most just think I’m an extra-skilled Rogue. “I know what you did.”
“I overloaded a power cell. You did not see how I did it.” I look him in the eye until he relents and turns away. It’s difficult to tell if he does so because I’m Royal, my power scares him, or he just doesn’t think it’s worth the fight. “I controlled it. As you wanted.”
Vybron nods. “Just be careful about who sees it. The people need a leader. You are different, Aura. I always hoped it’d be you who would change life for us, Rogues. But you can’t do that if you’re dead or jailed. I would not put it past your father to protect himself over all others, including you.”
Right. I am a tool that either serves its purpose or is considered useless and thrown away.
“Don’t remind me.” I jump down and shake off the thoughts of my father’s agenda, then drop the busted cell on the ground. I know he only pushes me to bond with a princess from another mothership to serve his need to stay in power.
I hustle through the downed Nebs, buried under a dirt wave from the crashed berserker, to the dome where Tro’si and Oalo are hunkered down. I tap the dome, Oalo drops it. They both sit at the bottom of the trench, looking distraught. Tro’si hugs himself.
Hiking down the edge to them, I sit in the dirt and offer them each a hand. “I won’t hurt you.”
When they take my hands, I feel their trembling through their fingers, confirming my concerns. “Do you know why I do not shake?”
They don’t reply, and I think they’ve zoned out.
“I have seen this all over the universe. This same kind of battle. It will get easier if you remember why you fight. You defended your people today. Yes, lives were lost. And we will honor them. But we must keep fighting in their memory so their sacrifices are not forgotten.
“Then, we will look at our failures and focus on fortifying what needs improvement. That is how we grow, and we learn to win. Deep breath, then focus on what’s next.”
Tro’si and Oalo each take a deep breath and let me help them up. Then, I give them a pat on the back and motion them out of the pit. I spend the next hour talking with other troubled Vinym. Most weren’t ready for such conflict so fast. But no one ever is.
As I trudge back to my ship, hidden under a shield of her own, and meet up with Blaize and Fieri, my boots rattle the flood of ammo shells. “Good day.”
Blaize grins and swipes a foot through a puddle of metal casings, making a clinking sound. “Music to me. Hey, do we have any ice cream? I’m hungry.”
“Blaize,” Fieri is furious. “Head in the game. We still have a mess of Neb soldiers to clean up. Your mess, Aura.”
“At least I don’t make a short-barrel low-velocity kind of mess, ya feisty boner-killer,” I retort. “We won.”
Fieri’s face darkens. “You’re lucky that I still respect your Storm is something different. Otherwise, I’d have half a mind to cut off your balls and strap them to your weapon; since you think they’re so big that you have to tell everyone about it.”
Blaize snorts. “Ooh, Aura. You’re pissing off Gruntpa.”
Fieri glowers at Blaize then slides the look back to me. But as Vybron calls to him, a smile cracks on Fieri’s face. He offers me a fist. “Good job today, Aura. Just don’t make me remind you of your least favorite song.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“The sound of me kicking your ass.” Fieri turns to Blaize. “And no ice cream for you. Youlethim do that. No Amphiran, not even a Rogue as fucked up in the head as you, should ever let a Royal risk themselves for others. Especially not the one who might actually be able to save us.”
Fieri picks up his radio to respond to Vybron and stalks up Allele’s ramp.
