What May Come

Forsaken

Nura ran as soon as she heard. The rumor swept through the Tovre, swift as a comet. The students and faculty were numbed by shock over what happened the previous day, but news such as this still spread like a cascade failure in the capacitors.

Breathing was like pulling air through a wet cloth. Nura choked back her tears as she ran through the Tovre's corridors for the hangar bay, refusing to believe.

She fled. Away from the other students, her instructors, and from her uncle who wanted to keep her close to his side. She had to get as far from them as she could. Nura knew they were looking for her even then.

Keep her safe. She has seen terrible things a girl her age should not have to endure. The poor thing is in shock. She needs time to cope.

All true, but it didn't matter.

Kalko and the four other students who were killed in Velos' rampage had been sent to their rest mere hours before. Their caskets drifted from the Fleet to be claimed by this system's star. Nura had attended the funeral, her heart and mind numb throughout.

She should've been able to save him. If she was faster, or knew a better way, then Kalko might still be alive.

Vanta had informed Nura that the Moiran lieutenant was going to pull through because of her aid. Nura wished she could take more solace from that than she did. If she returned to Kalko sooner, it might've been enough time for the biosol injection to help. But, if she left to see to him, then the lieutenant might not have lived.

Could she have done that? Sacrifice the life of a woman she didn't know for the life of her classmate? Nothing was right, and anything she could've done wouldn't have been enough.

Not as she was— as was planned for her.

And none of it mattered.

Nura keyed the lift to take her to the bay floor. She could hear a ship's engines spooling. It might've already been too late.

She jumped off the lift before it settled fully on the deck. As fast as her feet could carry her, Nura ran towards the vessel preparing to rise to the launch deck.

"Meras!" she called out. She had to jump to reach, but she pounded her fists against the Blind Dragon's hull. The floor began to rise, taking the transport towards the unpressurized launch deck.

There was a crackle of static before a loudspeaker on the Dragon's hull blared to life. "Are you insane?" Meras' voice demanded. "You're right beneath my core exhaust port. You're about to get vacced!"

Nura's hands were getting bruised from beating against the metal. "Stop," she shouted. "Come back!"

"Clear the lift, Nura," Meras ordered.

"Not until you talk to me!"

The lift ground to a halt before lowering back to the hangar floor. Nura sprinted towards the bow of the transport. She waited in front of the Dragon's cargo bay doors until they finally opened.

Light from the interior of the transport fell on Nura, and Meras appeared as a silhouette. She came down the extending cargo ramp. Her eyes were downcast, and her features were haggard from grief and lack of sleep. Meras' freckled white fur was ragged and unwashed, as if she had spent every hour since yesterday in the maintenance access of a reactor core.

No matter what Nura's feelings of him might've been, Velos was still Meras' twin. Now, he was dead or as good as. No one was telling whether the Psy-Agency had carried out his... passing... yet, and it was doubtful there would ever be confirmation of it being done.