Thoughts of her friends at the Academy were nothing compared to losing Eza. His support for her hardships was gone. There was no one left she could lean on. As she tipped heavily to one side, she let gravity pull her down to the soft mattress.
As her face struck the pillow, hard plastic bit into her cheek. Jerking back, her fingers moved across the pillow until they located the culprit. It was the jewel case of a video letter. Even in the darkened room, she could make out the words
Her hands shaking, she wrapped her fingers around the case as if the message might crumble into dust. With great veneration, she pulled the disk to her chest and pushed herself upright. Sitting in the dark, she stared at the case cupped in her hands.
Part of her yearned to run to her console and watch the video, but an equally strong part feared playing the message. She didn’t know if she could bear seeing his image so soon after learning of his death. Though her eyes felt dry and out of tears, she didn’t trust her emotions enough to tempt fate.
Standing slowly, she moved as if in a dream toward the computer. Pulling out her chair, she sat down heavily and slid the disk into the slot on the side of the console. The screen flickered, first shining brilliant blue in the dark room before settling on an image.
Having turned on his camera, Eza took two steps back and wiped golden hair from his eyes, which flashed the same vibrant amethyst as hers. Smiling, he settled into a chair and faced the screen.
“Hi, Sis.” His strong voice carried through the silent room.
A sob slipped past her closed lips, and her body shook. She rocked in her chair, barely able to focus, as the message continued. She was woefully unprepared for the emotional turmoil she experienced at seeing his face again.
“We’re getting ready to go on a mission, but I had a few moments and figured I’d waste my time sending you a letter. Don’t worry. This mission won’t be that bad, just you’re everyday, run-of-the-mill reconnaissance. I’d tell you more about it, but you know the rules.”
“Classified,” she mouthed, as he said the word, wiping away tears, not wanting to miss seeing his face.
“I know I don’t get to write as much as I’d like, and for that, I’m sorry. Covert operations keeps me really busy, but I love what I’m doing, just like you.” He laughed. “Who knew I’d ever tell my Baby Sis I was winding up just like her?”
A smile still on his handsome face, he continued, “I’m proud of you. I hope you know that. I know Mom and Dad weren’t happy with your decision to go to the Academy, but I’ve always known you were destined for greatness. I’ve talked about you so much here, I can’t tell anymore if anyone wants to meet you or hates your guts. If they hate you, to hell with them. They don’t know what they’re missing.
“I got your letter today. It’s kind of what reminded me it was time to write you back. I appreciate the picture. It makes me feel a little closer to home, especially when I’m away so much. Once I get my next rest and relaxation anywhere near Arcendor, you better believe I’ll be on the next drop ship heading your way. It’s been too long since we hung out. Hell, you couldn’t even drink legally when I saw you last, though I’m not sure I’m all right with the idea of my Baby Sis drinking.”
She cried harder, knowing he’d never fulfill his promise. On whatever random planet he went for his mission, something went terribly wrong. Eza was dead, and Keryn was alone.
She clutched her chest, trying to cover the ache in her heart. The officer told the truth. Eza died fighting the Terrans. Rage boiled in her veins at the thought. They took Eza from her, and she would get revenge.
“I’ve got to go, Sis.” He glanced over his shoulder. Other voices spoke in the background, and, from Eza’s hurried expression, he didn’t want to give them a chance to be on the video. “I promise that when I get back, I’ll write again.
“I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you, Baby Sis. I’ll write, and, hopefully, see you soon. ‘Bye.”
The screen faded to black, as Keryn cried into the darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The early evening was warm and humid, as Yen and Adam climbed the tall staircase leading to the Shrine of Initiation. It took them a long time to reach Lagurica in time for the memorial service. Since departing Proteus II, it felt as if all they did was travel. The
Had that been the last of their travels, Yen would’ve been content. Their arrival, however, was only the beginning of their responsibilities. They left Buren in the care of an Alliance medical team before attending a litany of meetings, where they discussed the newly discovered Terran threat.
After half a year since the massacre on Proteus II, their interviews were finally finished, and they were reassigned to a new cruiser, the
Climbing the last few stairs, Yen tugged at his Fleet uniform’s collar. It was so long since he wore a formal uniform, it required extensive tailoring to make it fit again. Form fitting and heavily starched, the collar bit into his neck and left little room to breathe, as sweat rolled down his back and beaded his brow. Beside him, Adam echoed his discomfort.
At the landing, they noted the expansive amphitheater filled with mourning Wyndgaarts. Though still dressed in flowing, brightly colored dresses and shirts, the colors were muted and dull compared to the strong coral pastels of the Shrine. As they found their seats, Yen and Adam were assaulted by floral scents that barely covered the deeper musk of burning incense.
A wizened, old Wyndgaart walked to the center of the stage, taking his place among the tropical flowers and smoldering spices placed around the exterior of the Warrior’s Circle. Striking his staff on the floor three times, he brought the amphitheater to reverent silence.
“Thank you all for attending this memorial service for one of our fallen kin,” the schoolmaster began, his reedy voice carrying through the crowd. “We gather tonight to mourn the loss of Eza Kai Riddell, a true child and warrior of the Wyndgaart people. In our mourning, however, we also commemorate his strength as a warrior, love as a son, and loyalty as a soldier.”
The Schoolmaster gestured for an audience member to come forward. “Though I knew and taught Eza for many years as he grew, it would be a disservice for me to stand before you and try to describe his many accomplishments when his sister is in the audience. Keryn, if you would?”
The old Wyndgaart stepped aside, as Keryn came forward, her thin, deep-purple dress clinging to her curves, as she moved. Yen sat entranced as she walked, finding her every bit as beautiful as she seemed in the picture.
Taking her place in the center of the circle, she began her eulogy. “No one ever gave more of himself than my brother.” Even during such a difficult time, her voice was strong. “To his family, he was willing to sacrifice his time to make sure we were provided for. To the Alliance he was willing to sacrifice his safety, as he volunteered for difficult missions time after time. But for his friends-they were the ones he truly loved. For them, he was willing to sacrifice his life to preserve theirs.
“Growing up, Eza was always my hero. He stood by my side through every hardship I endured. I excelled only because he drove me to it, because I wanted nothing more than to be like him. He was my hero, and that’s why it’s fitting that we are here now to remember him as a hero.”
Shifting her weight, she struggled to find the right words. “Eza and I grew apart after his Initiation. I feared that the brother I loved was gone, replaced by something new.”
The crowd murmured disapprovingly.
“I feared what I didn't understand. After a few months, he found me alone and made me sit down to talk
