The Heretic of Sælonis ||A Sci-Fi Romance Novella||

two hours of sleep

"You need more than two hours of sleep." The Heretic turned her head towards me as I walked into the pilot room. She was perched on her seat, as had become her regular resting place over the week since we'd started taking shifts sleeping in the bed.

"I was born on Mertonis..." I rubbed my forearm as I wondered if she had a way of noticing I wasn't in my full armour, just my helmet and my chest plate.

"We're from twin planets. Both evolved similarly because of our shared star. Four hours' rest is considered a healthy night's rest, and you've had half that every night this past week." Well, she didn't need to know that I'd only been sleeping for one, and spending the rest of it pre-emptively begging the Council for forgiveness. They saw everything, and me letting her roam the ship free had to be against parts of my creed that I didn't remember the words of.

"Well, leaving you alone with the controls makes me restless." I responded as I moved to sit in my seat. While I knew she couldn't read the faded labels on each button and switch, I was still concerned about whether she could figure it out through trial and error. Or whether she could focus on the Aura that fuelled the ship and listen to what it told her...

"Your concern is unwarranted, and you know that." She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat as I hummed a reply. "Are you going to give me something to do today, or you going to listen to me go on about the Sethes Regime again?" What job did she think I would give her? It's not that I wanted to listen to her lies about the Council, either. They were becoming exhausting. "What I don't understand is how you could believe you're important to Sethes, and yet they have you in this piece of shit that can't handle hyper-drive. Huntsmen are the hidden front line of the war, and yet keeping you in this is almost like-"

The dashboard flashed. Alarms attacked my eardrums.

Shit.

"What's that?" The Heretic asked, but I didn't give a response. There wasn't time. "Uhnros, what does that alarm mean?"

Damn it. "A ship entered our space." I looked over at her and realised her belt was undone. That could end badly if we get hit hard. She could be thrown from that seat... "Do up your belt. This could get messy."

I turned my attention back to the monitors to see if I could locate the ship. Nothing. Fuck, they had cloaking...

"What do you need me to do?" She asked, as my heart raced and my chest tightened.

"Nothing, just stay quiet."

The alarm blared its sequence faster, and the volume grew louder.

Blasts hit the sides of the ship, sending vibrations through the seat, and I did my best to try and hit them back, but it was impossible when I couldn't see them. This ship was a century old—too old to use or recognise cloaking technology.

"Uhnros..."

"Quiet, please."

If they had cloaking technology, their ship was less than twenty years old and Sethesian made. But if they were attacking me, they had to be pirates... how had pirates stolen a modern Sethesian ship?

The ship jolted as we were hit with another blast.

"Shit..." I hissed as I tried heat-vision to see their ship, but it didn't work. Fucking cloaking.

"Uhnros."

A shaky breath left my lips as I realised she probably wanted to know what was happening, considering the fact she couldn't see any of this for herself. "I can't see them."

Silence followed my words for a moment before we were hit with another blast. I wasn't sure how much the ship could take, not when it had already taken damage on Allastan. I continued shooting blindly, in hopes I might land a shot, but so far, it hadn't worked.

"What do you mean?"

"This ship is too old to recognise cloaking tech or use it." I explained, so she knew the context. "They have it, and they're using it. It's hiding them visually and from the heat sensors. I have no fucking idea where they are."

"Who are they?"

"Pirates." I said the word with enough confidence to make myself believe it, too. It would be strange for pirates to have control of a newer Sethes ship, but... but that was the only explanation beyond my own people attacking me, which made little sense. Nor would it make sense for the Rebels to attack us in this manner. "If it was your people, they wouldn't shoot at us and put you at risk."

"Can they board us?" She asked, and I guess that was a scenario we had to think over.

"If they stop us, yes. The ramp will only open if we're stationary, and since we're in space, it will lock us in here so we can keep breathing. We'll be trapped..." This was the closest I'd been to that happening, and I wasn't prepared. Not when the rest of my armour was below deck in the drawer under my bed.

"What's the worst that'll happen if they get on?"

Did she really need to ask that? They were fucking pirates. "Depends on if they know who you are or not. If they do, they'll kill me and sell you to Sethes. If not, they'll still kill me, but... pirates are known for violence, Heretic. What do you think they'll do to a woman in their possession?"

She tilted her head back, and I saw her chest rise and fall with a deep breath. "They'll kill you?" Her fingertips twitched as she spoke.

"Yes." I answered, and she shook her head. "All of my training won't matter when we're stormed by pirates, trapped in this tiny room and I'm not wearing my full armour."

Her head turned away from me as her twitching fingers glowed with a soft golden light. She raised her hand in the direction she was looking. Her fingers relaxed before she curled them into a fist and turned it so her enclosed fingers faced the ceiling.

There wasn't time for me to ask what she was doing.

Not when that soft glow brightened to a blazing pale gilt before her fingers splayed open.

Especially not when the echo of an explosion rang through my ears, and a flash of warm light filled the cabin.