~ * ~ * ~
On Helysian, Aurora was fed, vaccinated, and taken to the infirmary, while Rafian was scolded and punished for his unsanctioned rescue mission. It was a complicated return and ceremony for Aurora, but she was granted her wings as a pilot for “making it back to the ship.”
About a week after they had returned, Rafian was in the simulation room gearing up for a mission when a beautiful, young woman in a pilot’s uniform sat down next to him and hugged him close.
“Erm, hello?” he said quietly as his eyes began scanning the room quickly for any sign of Vani.
“Rafian, do you not recognize me?” she exclaimed before punching him in the arm.
“Aurora?” he said as he stood up. “You look … you look like a model!”
Smiling, Aurora patted the seat next to her, motioning for him to sit. When he did, she poured her heart out, tearfully thanking him and letting him know she owed him her life. Rafian thought about it for a while, and then, after a hug that lasted an eternity, he said, “How about I call you sister?”
“What do you mean, Raf?” she asked, puzzled.
“Well, we’re both outsiders, Aurora, and it would be nice to have some sort of family here like everyone else. Someone who cares when I do good things or when I get in trouble. I’d like to call you sister.”
Aurora’s eyes were all fire and excitement at the prospect, and she kissed him on the cheek with glee.
“Yay, a brother!” she said with glee and they accepted their roles immediately.
Memory 07 | First Mission
The las-sword was one of the most specialized weapons that the Geralos used, and Rafian wanted to be comfortable fighting with and against it. For this he had rigged up a training module using some of the marines’ elite androids to spar against in order to improve. However, this particular android must have been fitted with a master AI, because Rafian could find no break in its moves or mistakes to exploit in order to get the better of it.
For two minutes (which seemed like a lifetime), the boy and the machine had clashed las-swords. The android parried his swing strongly to the side and swiped at Rafian’s exposed arm, slicing the skin into a burning gash—which would have taken his arm off if the las-sword had been powered up beyond training level. Without giving in to the pain or severity, Rafian had spun a back fist into the skull of the droid but lost his las-sword at the same time.
They had kept the fight going, with Rafian using unarmed martial arts to parry the machine’s swings and thrusts. After Rafian planted a side kick into its chest to knock it across the room, the android threw the sword. That was when Rafian pulled out a hidden pistol and angrily shot back to put it out of commission.
The fight had lasted all of five minutes before the gunshots went off, but by the time it was over, Rafian was sore, tired, and regretful of having to resort to cheating in order to take out the android that was meant to train him.
Perhaps setting it to kill mode was a bad idea, as the machine had fought him the way an angry, skilled Geralos would have if the situation were real. Even worse was the swipe that had nailed his now-numbed arm. Had that sword been powered up, he would now be without an arm—or worse.
The machine was rigged to finish the job, and if he had been a second too slow, he would have been hit by the thrown blade and killed.
Rafian was no stranger to life-and-death situations, as that had been the narrative of his life, but to lose in a training exercise was not the most glorious end to a soldier’s life. He opened the door to the training room as he wrapped his seared arm and slowly made his way back to his room.
He ran into Vani, who looked as if she had just seen a ghost when she saw the bandage on his arm. Almost instantly, she began shouting. “What the hell happened to your arm? OK, OK, infirmary, right now. We need to get this looked at before it’s too late!”