After discovering clues from her astray father, the first hybrid offspring joins forces with her ragtag friends, embarking on a mission to regain the planet Safforia from the dystopian regime.
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Year E2996
Beck
Death.
I never thought death would arrive at my doorstep at such a young age. I always thought I would be old, with gray hair and wrinkles to match. A lucky man with kids and grandkids. Never did I imagine a man in a long cloak holding a scythe. The silver blade sharpened to a point, touching my chest as my heart burned into a blaze. His grin was evil, taking lives before they wanted to leave. Before, they could be someone.
Firm fingers grabbed my arm. My eyes couldn't open, but pineapple-melon perfume seeped up my nose, telling me it was Ray. Her icy hand touched my forehead.
"Beck!" my sister yelled.
My vision blurred with her hovering over me. A thick, slimy layer forced them closed, swollen like a grapefruit. The picture hanging on the ship wall morphed with my fuzzy head, watching Rob, Ray, and an older lady smile at the camera, realizing the photo for the first time.
"He's not moving," she said to Rob with agony in her voice. She held back sobs while Ray kept all her feelings inside, always good at putting a wall up so others couldn't see her pain.
Pain.
Death was hurtful to the core. I was not ready to say goodbye to the ones I called family. My soul ached to say one last word before they cut the rope. Death was upsetting to the skin. My palms ignited in burning flames like something invisible gnawed at my flesh.
"It hurts," I hacked out, stretching my fingers wide.
"What hurts?" Ray asked.
The sound of blood rushed into my ears, roaring like a river. Needles stabbed my bare skin, pulling at every hair peppering down my arm. The saliva pooled in my mouth, hard to swallow and breathe.
"Beck!" Ray yelled, shaking my body. "Come back to me." She placed her palms on my cheeks, using her thumbs to open my eyes. Her expression sunk, and she looked over her shoulder. "Rob, we need to borrow the other spaceship."
Rob's footsteps echoed like drums as he ran in circles. "How?" His voice showed panic.
"I don't care how!" Ray was volume ten. "The old woman on the ship three-zero-five will let us use it."
"Okay," Rob said with his voice far away from us. "Prep the kid, and I will rush back in five minutes."
I slowly opened my eyes to see Ray walking up to Rob. Their silhouettes closed, erasing the gap between them, comforting one another. Rob brushed his hand through her hair. Their weak voices filled the pain in my ears, trying to cup my palms on them. But my body would not listen to my mind, numb to the touch.
"I-I—" Ray cried out. "I don't know what is wrong with him, so please help me." Her voice was low.
Rob shook his head. "Anything for you, captain," he said, then ran out the door.
