Alpha Centauri

Forty-Five - Nathan

The tension between Cassiopeia and Nizami slowly dissolves as the training continues. The four of us are assigned to their own individual instructors. Cass takes Jaden, because Nizami probably would've torn her throat out by the end of the training session, Reg takes Julian, my cousin Andromeda—or Andy, a much more mild-mannered Proximian—takes Nizami, and, surprisingly, Hermes shows up in time to be my instructor.

"I thought fighting wasn't your thing," I say, though I'm not at all complaining.

Hermes steps out of his shoes and peels out of his shirt. I can't tell if Hermes is just yanking my chain or not.

"As far as I know, it's not your thing either, so I thought we'd make a good duo."

I clench my jaw and closes my eyes. "You're not gonna make me "show you what I got", are you?"

"Not unless you'd like to show me." Hermes winks a lot more flirtatiously than I'm comfortable with.

I blink several times, helpless against the heat flaring onto my face. "What are we doing first?"

Hermes examines me head on and furrows his brow in thought. Maybe I imagine it, but I catch a flicker of a smile at the corner of his lips.

"Well, I saw you working with Reg earlier..." Hermes begins to pace in a circle around me, which only sends more heat shooting up my neck. "You're not half bad at dodging, but you're gonna have to work on your attacks. Also, you're a bit tense, at that certainly isn't gonna help."

I try my best to relax, but it isn't easy knowing someone is checking out my scrawny ass.

Hermes comes back around so he's standing in front of me again. "Alright then, throw a punch at me, and I'll critique you from there."

I start to make a fist, but stop myself. "Do you—do you want me to hit you?"

Hermes grins. "Don't worry, mate, I'll forgive you."

I exhale sharply and throw my best punch at Hermes's jaw. It's enough to knock him back a little, but nothing impressive. Hermes blinks and flexes his jaw. He's smiling.

"How was that?"

Hermes scratches his chin. "I don't know. I just wanted to see if you'd actually hit me. I guess you're not a pansy then, yeah?"

"Thanks?"

He laughs and throws out his arms. "Well, I can't stand this place. Whaddya say we blow this joint and just give you a good gun?" He's already slipping back into his shoes.

I fold my arms. "And go where?"

Hermes shoves my sneakers into my hands and takes my free hand in his. Before I can react, Hermes is tugging me towards the back exit. "I need your help with something."

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I don't have a chance to put my shoes back on until they make it into the Undercamp and Hermes lets go of my hand. Hermes leads me into a giant, football stadium-sized chamber, which just so happens to be where the Proximian ships are stored.

The Roc Warbird towers stories and stories above us, thousands of tons of cold, hard beauty.

I can't take it all in. "How long has this place been here?"

Hermes spins on his heel and leads me across the chamber backwards. I almost expect him to shove his hands in his pockets and start whistling. He's not even wearing his shirt. "It's been here since the Proximians' original civilization on this planet. We just dug it up and fixed it up a bit. The only other recoverable thing was the infirmary, which, at the time, wasn't even the infirmary."