Page 5 of Crash Landing
“Samantha Worthington will be filling the intern position,” he announced out loud.
“On one of the three ships heading to…” I continued, my words tapering off when I read the rest of the statement. My smile flattened. “To the Centauri system.”
“Holy shit!”
“Space?” I muttered. “Space!”
“That’s amazing!”
“No… no, that’s not amazing. Why can’t I work in a real lab or overseas? Even the Nexus would be better than the Centauri system.”
“Anyone at university would kill to go to space.”
“No one at this university was in that freighter attack.”
“But this is an opportunity that kind of cancels that out, right?”
“It’s not just that. It’s the attempted kidnapping. The near-freezing temperatures in a drifting escape shuttle. The allergies. Thealiens.It’s all there.”
“Ok, breathe. Humans haven’t been sent to another solar system since the Nexus was built.” He stopped for a moment, his eyes wandering like he was searching a cloud of thoughts above his head. “Ok, wait. On the news a couple of weeks ago, there was something about a group of humans being granted permission to explore an alien planet. I didn’t think much of it since we’ve explored other planets before. But permission? You think it meant thevalerianswere giving humans permission to explore within their territory? It would make sense. You and your friend ended up on one of their planets before. You think this could mean—”
“I don’t want to think about it quite yet, Thomas.”
“But you should. The internship starts soon. But either way, this is a huge opportunity.”
“An opportunity that might give me a heart attack. I only stopped taking my meds six months ago and now I’m… I’m…”
Screwed.
“Shit, do you think you’ll have to get medically cleared for this?”
“I don’t know. I thought if I got accepted I’d just be heading to another university or a real lab or something and studying under big names.”
“We should really keep up with the news, huh?”
I rolled my eyes and started speed walking toward my apartment. I was in need of some major self-reflection.
3: Saleuk
D'Syrion threw a crescent sweep toward my head and I sloppily leaned away from it, nearly losing my step. Before I could recover, he delivered another blow toward my abdomen. I jumped back and that time I actually stumbled.
D’syrion chuckled, relaxing his blades by his sides as I found my footing.
“I have a feeling you’re not in the mood,” he said.
He was an older man. One who’d seen many battles, who had lived through war. One who once had a family. Now he was my teacher and the teacher to many others. His body was a valley of muscle and scars and while most valerians’ skin changed color depending on their emotional or physical state, his remained a soft aqua. And according to many, it had been that color since he lost his mate and son in the Thinning.
I could consider myself lucky in that regard. When they put a majority of the population into stasis to preserve the few who could still potentially reproduce one day, I was one of them. I only woke up decades later because they needed my military service in what many thought might be another war.
With humans…
They weren’t a new race. Only the newest to venture off their planet. And since they were new to the galactic relations, they were unpredictable. No one knew exactly what would happen.
I sat on one of the metal benches near the wall in the training arena and set my dual blades by my side. Practice blades wereheavy and clunky. Not like the sleek energy blades most actually used in a fight. Not that I was any good with those, either. I was a firearm specialist and a pilot. I could also throw a good punch, but blades? That was always Vahko’s thing. But any well-trained combat specialist said that melee was important to know, especially considering our biggest enemy, the gek’tal, was partial to hand-to-hand combat and if anyone was ever caught by them without a firearm, it could so easily go south.
“I got an assignment,” I said, flipping my long, black braid behind my shoulder.
D’Syrion had cut his hair long ago as an act of grief and at his age, it had gone a dark silver, which he kept loose and hanging to his shoulders. In it were mourning beads. Many in our religion who had lost loved ones wore them.
