By Kelsey Drake
Mari watched the descent to Vorin IV through the viewport, stomach churning like the purple clouds frothing in their ship’s wake. Despite being Earthborn, she had quickly learned to love space-cruising. It was the closest to freedom, peace, and a few other unalienable rights she’d ever get again.
Yet she was minutes away from losing even that one comfort.
She’d never liked putting in at port. During the last five years with Major Zandar va Ir and company aboard the Scourge, port calls had always been fast, violent interruptions of their otherwise easy life among the stars. They were a Special Enforcer unit, tasked with hunting the Council’s most-wanted criminals. Though the crew lived for the adrenaline rush, it was usually a messy business, and Mari had wasted too much of her life mending their resulting injuries.
Still, this time was worse—because it would be her last. Every Gifted human who survived the Trials spent a lifetime in service to an elite Vorian, with an obligatory pause to “support” the human “populating” program. Three weeks ago, Mari had gotten a private comm: the Council had found a suitable mate and was pulling her from service. The next time the Scourge departed the Vorin system, it would go without her.
“Curse va Silar,” she growled at the approaching dock, blanketed in mist. If not for that space scum’s recently discovered smuggling operation on Vorin IV, her desperate wish to never answer the summons might have been possible. The Council wouldn’t order Zar home just for her… and if they dared, he would tell them—with utmost diplomacy—to get bent. But now…
Zar. She wondered, not for the first time, does he know—
“Mari.” Her gaze snapped to her approaching commander. He was imposing in the black Enforcer uniform—forever unsmiling, but never unkind. She had long ago forgotten to fear him. “Brace for set-down.”
She might have groaned—Zar shot her a quizzical look—but then their Streaker-class ship locked into the landing pad, and the time for talking was past. Airlocks decompressed, Lieutenant vap Salik opened the main hatch, and they disembarked one at a time, leaping the twenty-odd feet to the platform with ease. Mari was last and didn’t hesitate to jump after them. Zar stood closest to the hatch, like always, and caught her easily.
They walked the steel planks connecting the docking nodes to the hub in single file, each lost in their own thoughts. Keepers might already be waiting in the hub, collar in hand…
The Enforcers suddenly fell into motion, circling to encapsulate Mari, their weakest link. A second later, she saw lightning-flashes in the fog around them and heard the electric charge of laser blasters.
There were hardly worse circumstances for an ambush. The Enforcers were seasoned veterans and well-trained sharpshooters—each equipped with deflective bracers, and with a force shield at point, they weren’t defenseless. Yet Mari watched them flinch with hit after hit, saw how slowly they advanced toward safety, and knew it wasn’t enough.
Her hands heated with her Gift. She reached out, touching any exposed skin—cheeks, hands, necks. She had learned, at unbearable expense, the limits of her healing Gift during the Trials, and paced herself now: she only took half their pain, only slowed the flow of blue blood. She staved off the worst, yet, one by one, they succumbed.
Mari felt the moment she lost the fourth of her seven Enforcers; her scream of frustration and despair was almost matched by the shriek of another Streaker, coming to their aid.
There was one long, long moment of deafening silence… then someone groaned, and Mari’s first thought was for Zar.
He lay on his back, blood darkening the water beneath him. Mari staggered toward him; her legs gave out, and she collapsed with a groan at his side. She noticed immediately that his shallow breaths gurgled—a quiet, ominous sound.
“Were you hit?” he whispered.
“No,” she lied, eyes burning to match the tightness in her chest. She took his hand. He was dying, and he worried about her.
Too stubborn to die, he teased. The first hint of humor he’d ever shown, though his face remained impassive. Mari’s breath hitched.
The one-in-a-million Gift—or curse—of a telepath, reviled by humans and Vorians alike. Little wonder he schooled his expressions, was almost impossible to surprise…
…keeps his distance…
He squeezed tightly. I didn’t want to make you… uncomfortable. Across their link, so much accompanied that one word: privacy—though my range is limited—fear, disgust… rejection…
Mari wanted to cry. This was uncomfortable, the nearness of the could-have-been breaking her failing heart—
She sensed when he caught that. Before he could ask, her hands warmed with her Gift for what she knew must be the last time.
She healed until wounds knitted into puckered scars on his body and opened, fresh and raw, on hers. Mari felt his pain easing—and his suspicion mounting—so with a last deep breath, she switched to his lungs.
When his airways cleared and she coughed blood, Zar broke contact with a roar, then stroked her face desperately. No, no! Your healing… how? Why?
His anguish pierced through her developing haze, and its echo in her surprised her. She was deeply grateful for her assignment with him—had been, all these years. Zar had unknowingly given her protection; his unit had been her family. It had been a blessed respite from the traumas of the Reaping, the Trials, the… populating…
You didn’t want to? You could have told me! he cried, holding her so gently. I would have claimed you as my own instead. He pressed his forehead to hers, and Mari didn’t know whose tears dampened her cheeks.
And I would have been glad. Her heart fluttered with death and sadness and joy. But now I’m finally free. Let me go, Zar.
Never, he vowed.
To the boom of a telepathic cry for help, Mari’s world went dark.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This really stirred my heart. Although I’m confused as to why there was an ambush in the first place.
I assumed the criminals were attacking in an effort to avoid capture. She was still with them for the mission, she just wouldn’t be leaving on the next one.
This is so good! I’ve read it like, five times now. I love sacrificial healer characters and that bittersweet ending is just all the feels.
I loved it! You’ve got me wanting more from this world and from Mari!
Oh wow! That was heartbreaking! Cool worldbuilding, I would love to see more of how the society and characters. Her powers and the way she used them was interesting and the parasitic vs. cooperative relationship between the aliens and humans was super compelling.
Ah, the timing! Well played. Poignant. And I love that the ending is a little open for hope that she’ll survive to get help in time!
I would love reading about these characters in a longer story, seeing how their usual relationship looks with both harboring secret feelings for each other. Nice job, Kelsey! So glad you decided to submit this!
*sobs* WHY?! 🥺 but it was so good! I wasn’t always sure what was going on but still enjoyed it.
Ahhh THE EMOTION :'(