Out

Chapter 17

Cerani Encampment, 324 Era Vulgaris, Centennial 25 - Present day

I step inside my tent on tired feet. I had not realized how much Aron's injuries weigh on me. The importance of his life resonates from the top of my head to a mile deep inside this wild planet. I let out a long breath and a few pained groans escape with it as I rub my aching neck.

"What is wrong?"

I know that voice. "Aron?" I breathe in surprise.

"Yes," he whispers. "Borrowed your cot. Hope you don't mind." He sounds as exhausted as I feel, though my worries are nothing compared to his actual pain.

"You should be in your own tent," I say, stepping further into the tent.

"Nonsense," he says. "You were not there."

I kneel beside my cot and he takes up my hand immediately. "Achad is here," he says.

"Yes," I say, "though I am not sure how the men captured him."

"Intercepted him on his way to Q," Aron says, breath hitching mid-sentence.

"Are you all right?" I ask, sitting forward.

"Can you help me shift onto my side?" he asks.

"Of course." I feel down his arm to his shoulder and pull him towards me. He groans as he accidently rolls onto his wrist.

"Ugh, that hurts," he breathes.

"Remember when I told you that you should have stayed in your tent?" I ask, helping him situate his arm more comfortably.

"Who would help me get my arm unstuck?" he says, grasping my arm and giving it a little shake. "So, Achad."

"Yes," I sigh. "I do not know what to do about him. I have one vivid memory of him from the day I was taken to Q. He leered at me about his conquest over the Arci but he didn't go into detail. All I remember is he talked about the steam and how it made all green-eyed people go blind."

"He was probably referring to people who have Cerani blood," Aron says.

"I suppose you are right, though I cannot imagine there are many of them left in Arcis."

"Not many."

"I saw a Cerani man inside Arcis on my fourteenth birthday," I realize, remembering the man in green very suddenly. "He sparked himself right in front of the car, but even before that, I saw him outside my father's house working with a cleansing crew."

"Likely a brother of ours," Aron says. "Darius' perhaps. He lived in Arcis for some time, but I'm not sure what happened to him."

"Truly?" I ask. "I had no idea."

"How would you have known?" Aron asks. "He worked on the line. He would send coded correspondence with a trustworthy officer to keep us apprised of the situation in Arcis. It was our only way to know when attacks were planned; he was reporting from the inside."

"What is the line?" I ask.

"The hospital assembly line. He made barrels for medium range firearms," Aron says.

"They assemble guns inside the hospital?" I ask.

Aron sits up a little, squeezing my hand. "What do you think Achad does with the people he takes?" he asks.

"Well, he puts us green-eyed in Q," I say. "And the rest are treated in the hospital."

"Half true," he says. "If a citizen of Arcis is ill, regardless of their eye color, Achad takes them in under the guise of treatment and then forces them to work in the hospital."