Chapter 12
Shooting Stars
Apollo landed between Mira and Castor as the smoke began to clear. Ash kicked up from beneath his feet. He glanced around at the dark coat of it across the ground. A few bony clumps were all that remained of their attackers. “What the hell happened?”
“Ambush,” Castor responded. “Mira took him out.”
Apollo nodded. “I’m glad to hear she’s getting some experience. Still, I will spare some more support. I don’t want to take any more risks. Thankfully, it appears their purple weapon isn’t here, and if he is, he hasn’t come out. Should make the rest of this battle a sweep, but keep an eye out.”
“Understood, Apollo,” Castor replied. “How many do you think we have left?”
“Thanks to holdouts, we can’t ever be sure, but we believe that we’ve cleared out the vast majority of them. Our estimates range from 100-150, up to 200 left.” Apollo gestured around. “It's only when they catch us off guard. They’re not much without their element of surprise.”
Castor nodded.
Apollo twisted his earpiece and called for backup. “Stay safe. Be alert,” he said, before flying back into the midst of battle.
Castor turned to Mira. “You need more time. What you’ve shown so far today has mostly disappointed me.”
“Did you see what I just did?” Mira questioned. “I got that star.”
“That was a gut reaction, not skill,” Castor said. “Still, I suppose the promise is there.”
Three more guards landed on the rim: two women with dark blue patches and one boy with a medium blue.
“Apollo said we were close. How are conditions out there?” Castor asked.
“The Reds don’t have a game plan. They're helpless,” one of the dark blues said. “It's basically a slaughter. We’ve lost a few out there, though, mostly newbies being somewhere at the wrong time.”
The boy with the medium blue patch looked up to them. Mira assumed him to also be a rookie. He was young but older than her, with dirty blonde hair and olive skin. “Did you see Cera?” the boy asked, clear worry on his face.
“Cera? I don’t know if I’d recognize her,” one of the women responded.
“Dark hair, dark skin, same blue as me,” he listed details.
“We’ll find out when we regroup,” the other woman said. “No point worrying about it now.”
The boy gave a slow, frozen nod.
Mira turned away from them and towards the battle across the cliffs. It was like watching fireworks, almost all of them being red and orange, with the occasional yellow.
“You need to learn to kill,” Castor said, continuing his conversation.
“I know,” Mira replied. “And I will. It won’t happen again.” She wasn’t sure if that was true. She thought that was what he wanted to hear, though.
“It shouldn't be difficult,” Castor responded. “These people want to kill us, eradicate us. I want to know who put this hesitation in your head.”
Mira looked away from him. She knew who did. Should she say it?
Castor was watching her intently as if to read her thoughts, but it seemed he already knew the answer. “Rigel, of course, is a factor, but it's your brother. He’s soft.”
“Don’t talk about my brother,” Mira growled.
“I can talk about whoever I want, Mira, especially if it relates to your ability on the battlefield.”
“I don’t care,” Mira responded. “I know he’s weak, but that’s just who he is. It's not his fault.”
Castor smirked, glad to confirm his answer. “So it is your brother?”
Mira groaned. “Doesn't matter, I’ll learn anyway.”
“Keeping those people around you will only drag you down, you know,” Castor responded.
Mira met his gaze. “I know.”
**BREAK**
There was a bang at his office door. Rigel raised his head off his desk, fixing up his gray hair and wiping away the warm tears in his eyes. “Who is it?”
“Let us in,” the familiar voice of Yue replied.
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Rigel sighed, floating over to the door. He hesitated before flashing the flame lock.
The door began to creak open. Yue pushed it wide and stepped inside, followed by Atlas and Stephen. “Tell us what’s going on,” she insisted.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Rigel replied, floating back over to his desk.
“Bullshit,” she answered.
Rigel froze.
“When do you leave?” Yue asked.
He turned his head back towards them. “Sometime after Mira gets back.”
“So you really are leaving?” Atlas questioned.
“Not by choice,” he said. “Arcturus has bigger plans for you that I don’t fit into.”
“Why?” Atlas asked.
“My training, it's not what they deem acceptable. They’re right,” Rigel said. Rubbing his fingers together, he debated saying something else. “And, in truth, it was on purpose.” It slipped out.
“What do you mean?” Yue questioned.
Rigel pulled his nebulant out of his pocket and took a deep breath from it, preparing his words. He exhaled a cloud of blue air and opened his mouth to speak. “Opiuchus is training you to be soldiers, to have strong brute force, ready to have its hand in any way it needs,” Rigel started. “They want us to make weapons out of you. It's how they trained me, Castor, everyone. I was strong once, able to kill multiple men and women on the battlefield. That was until I went nova.”
He froze speaking about it, his gray eyes looking at each one of them. “You know how the spiritual always says going nova is a form of rebirth. I don’t necessarily believe it to have some higher meaning, but it did change my outlook on life. I lost most of my power, reassigned to skills stronger than maybe Class IIs. Without all that power corrupting me, I think I saw the flaws in the way Ophiuchus taught. They raise each generation assuming war. A constant that would never be squashed out, but honestly that’s only the case because they make it the case. So I swore it on myself to not train a generation of soldiers but a generation of people. I think it worked… for most of you.” It was obvious who he was referring to.
“You have the right to believe what you want, and whatever my successor says, maybe I’m wrong, but I hope not. I hope what I taught you means something.” With that, he nodded his head.
The three of them all glanced at each other. Their minds were still processing what was said.
“I believe you,” Atlas finally spoke. “I don’t want to fight—I never have. I don’t understand my sister. I don't know if I ever will, but nothing about any of this ever felt right to me.”
“I guess I’ve never thought about it,” Stephen replied. “Still, if we don’t fight, won’t the Ruber win?”
Rigel looked as if to answer, but no words escaped his lips for a moment or two. Clearing his throat, he finally managed, “We’ve been fighting this war for over 200 years—longer if you include the Sagittarius revolt. 100 of their men barely equals the strength of one of ours, yet no matter how many battles we win or how many we kill, there's always another one to fight. I think there are other options Ophiuchus needs to consider.”
“I thought all the peace agreements were broken?” Yue questioned. “That fighting only continues because neither side is willing to compromise.”
“You all haven’t been out there on the field. It's the same battle every damn time. We slaughter them every time,” Rigel replied, gray tears now leaking from his eyes. “I've killed so many.” Rigel tried to wipe his sobs.
“I’m sorry,” Yue replied. “I didn’t realize.”
“I know, I just don’t want you to become the same thing I’ve become. It changes you. It really does. I don’t even see a human in the mirror sometimes. I’m a murderer,” he said. “My hands have killed hundreds, maybe thousands. You lose count. I don’t want you to have to kill anyone. I don’t want Mira to have to kill anyone, but now Castor has her, and who knows what he’ll have her do?”
“Castor…” Atlas mumbled.
Rigel fell to his knees.
Atlas knelt down next to him, holding a hand on his shoulder. Stephen and Yue leaned down as well. The three of them tried to console him, but they didn’t know what to say to the distressed man.
“You all need to leave,” Rigel said, breaking his sniffles, “before they find you here with me like this. They won’t like what I’ve told you.”
“We can’t just leave you,” Stephen said.
“GO!” Rigel yelled.
They rarely heard Rigel yell. When he did, it was always out of genuine concern. So they broke away from him, tempted to listen and head out the door.
“What if we leave?” Atlas questioned as they were about to turn away. “With you, out in the galaxy, somewhere they can’t find us.”
Rigel sniffled and shook his head. “That’s impossible. They control so much. They have stars everywhere.”
“Well, if what they’re going to make us into is so much worse, why can’t we at least try?” Atlas argued.
“I—can’t,” Rigel started. “You’d all be at risk.”
“Yes, we can,” Atlas stated.
Rigel looked up at him. It was a confidence he hadn’t seen in him before. It made Rigel reconsider. “Maybe there’s one way,” he said, wiping his eyes with his arm.
BREAK
Castor pointed up into the sky at a red star that had drifted away from the brunt of the battle. Trails of ash followed him. He was injured.
“Use your flare,” Castor said.
“I—,” Mira started.
“Mira, what did you tell me?”
Mira nodded and faced the sky. She unclicked the protective band around her chest and let it fall to the ground. Purple energy pulsed through her veins as she concentrated it inward.
The star floating in the air was glancing back and forth across the battlefield, only trying to flee.
Mira felt the energy seep into her core. She took aim at the defenseless red. Whatever pacifism Rigel and Atlas had conjured in her, she tried to dispel. It began to ache. She wasn’t sure how far she needed to push herself to reach the sweet spot, but she waited until it burned—until it felt like at any second her core would pop. She levitated off the ground and angled her chest at the man.
With one last fleeting thought, she released all the pent-up energy. A surge of purple light streaked criss-cross through the dusty sky. It only took a second before it struck the foe. The flare skimmed the star’s abdomen.
The red spiraled backwards through the air, leaving behind a twirl of ashes. His shirt was singed with purple fire. Mira wanted to close her eyes and look away, but Castor told her to watch as the man fought in agony.
It was only a few seconds later when another dark blue flash finished the job, putting the man out of his misery.
“Use your nebulant,” Castor said. “We’ll have more opportunities.”
Mira continued to look up at the sky. The man was dead now, a cloud of precipitating ashes, and it was ultimately her fault. But that was the way it had to be. She clenched her fists and awaited Castor’s next instruction.