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Healing

October 8, 2199

Iscandar, The beach outside the palace

Who are you?

A woman bent over Alex. Her features blurred, sharpened, blurred again.

Pain shrouded every perception.

"Adam…" he whispered. "Where's Adam?"

The woman spoke.

What? I don't… understand.

She spoke again.

Where am I? He tried to move. Hurts—worse than anything.

Everything went dark as the world disappeared.


February 2, 2200

Iscandar, The Palace courtyard

Alex sat on the palace steps. A cane lay beside him. Maybe I can stop using this tomorrow—or today. What would I have done if Starsha hadn't found me and Adam floating in the ocean four months ago?

Fountains and budding plants filled the courtyard circling the palace, and today a herd of once-domesticated horses plucked weeds and stray grass blades from between the cobbles.

Starsha stroked one mare's nose and smiled. Next to the horse stood a foal, his short tail whisking at flies it couldn't yet reach. Starsha bent to rub the little one's ears. "He's beautiful, Leisha." She patted the mare's neck. "He'll be a fine stallion one day."

The mare snorted and bobbed her head.

Starsha laughed.

She's so… selfless.

The Iscandari queen bid the horses farewell and started toward the palace as they returned to their herd, which grazed atop the near sunlit hill. She climbed the stairs past Alex. "Coming in?"

"Not right now."

"All right. It'll rain soon." She pointed to dark clouds rolling in from the south.

"I'll be in before that," Alex said.

Starsha nodded and went inside.

Iscandar's twin planet Gamilon hung in the sky near the storm clouds. You're nothing like her. You're an arrogant, self-absorbed tyrant. You care for nothing but power and control. Why does she weep for you? I'd never crush her heart like you did, never put her in a situation like this. What have you ever done to help her? Anything?

Lightning laced the approaching clouds, and the horses on the hill thundered away to find cover.

She says you healed Iscandar of the plague, but you couldn't even do that right. You might have saved the planet, but everyone on it was already dead. Tell me, Leader Desslok, why should she love you and not me?

The empty courtyard begged for someone to fill it. Cobblestones lay lonely with no footsteps to ring in the changing hour, or echo night's cool respite.

Raindrops tapped the pristine fountain's bowl.

You're trying to kill my friends—you did kill my family, and now you steal the heart of the woman I love. When your day comes, I'll spit on your grave, Gamilon. King or not, we're all equal in death.

Lightning crashed into a tree just outside the courtyard. Flames licked the split trunk for three seconds before a sheet of rain smothered them.

Alex braced against the cane as he rose and trudged inside.


February 25, 2200

Onboard the Argo, The port boarding dock

Starsha's small boat sped away from the Argo.

Will I ever see you again? Alex stood by the stair rail until the boat disappeared, and then he followed his brother inside.

As the stairs folded into their storage compartment, his younger brother talked with Nova, a nice young woman Alex met several days ago.

Treasure that friendship, Derek. You never know if it'll last. His hand tingled as the memory of his rejected proposal to the Iscandari queen bit into his heart. It could end far too quickly.


March 3, 2200

Onboard the Argo , Derek Wildstar's quarters

"It was crazy. Everything there reminded me of home, but, it didn't," said Alex as he sat in the desk chair across the room from his younger brother who perched on the edge of his bunk.

"I felt the same way. Everything looked familiar, but not—like looking at everything from the wrong side of a mirror," said Derek.

"Starsha said it's because her people originally came from Earth."

"Really?" Derek perked up. "Did she say anything else?"

"Not about that." Alex sagged in his chair.

"Did you ever visit the tree?"

"The huge one in the middle of the island? No. Starsha said it might not be a good idea, and by the time I was well enough to make the trip, I… well, I'd forgotten about it."

"You forgot about the mile-high tree in your back yard?" Derek was unconvinced.

"It… wasn't exactly a priority." Alex took a picture off the desk and studied it. His brother waved at the camera while Nova stood in the background gazing at the stars. She looks so much like Starsha…

"You really cared about her, didn't you?" Derek's face softened.

"Yeah…"

"Well," Derek clasped his hands and leaned forward. "We all have things we wish turned out differently."

Something in Derek echoed with Alex, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. "I just don't understand," Alex said. "How could she love that—that murderer?"

"Maybe there's something there you don't know about."

Alex's anger kindled. "He's responsible for Dad's death—for Mom's—and for millions more. What kind of man is that?"

Derek shook his head. "I don't know, Alex. I don't know Starsha's reasons, and if I ever see that man again, I won't hesitate to kill him, but I'm glad Starsha helped you—helped Earth. Isn't that what matters?"

Alex gave a slow nod. "I suppose." He checked the time. "Got to get to the mess hall. Sandor wanted to talk."

"See you later," Derek said as Alex left his brother's quarters. Heat climbed his face. I just want to get back to Earth, where everything's normal. And I don't have to keep remembering… everything.


July 14, 2200

The Aquarius Network Gate: Gehenna's Bridge, Onboard the Argo

Alex thundered down the hall. Red alarm beacons wailed and flashed, and the halls filled with people seeking safety. Which way? Which way? He consulted his comm map, and changed direction, heading for the thickest action. He'll be there—that murderer. I'm sure of it!

Another alarm, lower and longer, clapped his ears. Every containment door started to close. Alex darted through one door and squeezed through the second. Down the corridor he could just see a few enemy soldiers fighting a group of officers. Just two more sections. Two more!

He pushed hard to reach the next set of doors, but they slammed shut just before he could slip through. "No!"He pounded the hard metal. "Why couldn't you just let me get through?" He smacked the stubborn wall again. "Just another minute, and I'd have had my chance. I could've beaten some sense into that butcher. He's right there—not a hundred feet away. Why? Why!"

Alex kicked the door hard. "Ouch!" He hopped back and shook his offended foot. "I'd kill you if I could, Gammie!" The slur tasted strange. He'd never been one to use such terms on Earth, but out here, the rules blurred. Attack everything I love and expect me not to fight back? Well, you've got another thing coming.

The door stayed closed. He was the only one caught in this twenty-foot section of corridor. Outside, others yelled and protested from the sections behind him. He slid to the floor, face in his hands. This is all wrong.

Starsha's words some months past bit his heart, "Love is the first casualty of war, Alex Wildstar. I refuse to allow war into my heart, and I hope you will not let it poison yours either."

I can't do it, Starsha. I'm not strong enough. I want to kill him! He took everything from me—and you ask me to show mercy?

Silence offered no answer.

Outside, the air stilled, and the doors opened a moment later. Alex searched for the men he saw before the doors closed, but they were gone—all of them. Only the body of a gray-skinned woman lay dead in the cross-corridor.

A crewman dashed past him. "They're retreating!" he yelled. "Get ready for the next attack!"

Alex sprinted from the corridor to the bridge. Instead of the elevator, he took the emergency stairs, and when he burst onto the bridge, his brother Derek stood at the captain's station giving orders.

Alex took a vacant seat.

Visible without the sensors, a giant ship loomed in front of the Argo. Marks and tears riddled its deep blue hull. A deep violet glow ignited in the prime weapon's firing gate, and it grew until light burst toward the Argo.

This is the end, isn't it? He's won. So much for mercy.

Alex closed his eyes and concentrated on the surrounding sounds—every breath of the man nearest him, the scoot of his foot on the deck plates, the beat of his pulse in his ears. The world slowed to a crawl as destruction ripped through the void toward them.

One. Two. Three. Alex made it to ten when a hard jolt almost shook him from his chair. No burning sensation melted his body. No debris smashed his skull. Nothing. Is it over? He looked.

A thick, white film coated the front viewport, and Sandor stood at his station, half-hearted triumph on his face.

"Did it work?" said Derek from the captain's post.

"The Gamilon ship's gone," said the dark-haired radar operator.

Everyone on the bridge breathed a sigh of relief, but there was more than one downcast face, Alex's included. Silence filled the room.

I'm sorry, Starsha, but it had to be this way. He forced us to do this. Forgive us. Forgive me.


October 17, 2200

Earth, Great Island, Japan: Alex Wildstar's Apartment

Alex leaned into the recliner—one luxury he insisted on after everything he'd weathered the past year. The little, EDF-issued apartment wasn't much like his old home, and it was far from the palace on Iscandar, but at least it was his.

A tiny kitchen sat in the corner, and behind a narrow door lay a small bedroom and bathroom. On the wall hung his old uniform, folded and pressed into a frame. Above it hung his old captain's hat.

The doorbell chimed, and he got up to answer.

"Urgent mail from EDF Headquarters," said the courier. "For Captain Alexander Wildstar."

"That's me." Alex took the delivery man's tablet, pressed his thumb to the fingerprint sensor, and signed his name.

The courier gave him a thin, brown envelope with an EDF insignia stamped in the upper left corner.

Alex stepped back inside and sank into his chair. He started to open the envelope but stopped and set it in his lap. He took out his newly issued comm—a replacement for the one he'd been given aboard the Argo.

At least the personal data transferred. He flipped to the pictures they'd let him keep from his time on Iscandar—the ones Starsha sent him to remember his time there. He smiled at one of Adam flopped in the grass, staring up at the clouds with what looked like a dandelion in his hand.

Next were some of the horses that lived near Starsha's palace. Then, one of the afternoon thunderheads, lightning jutting its ragged fingers from the clouds like strands of electric thread.

Adam's face invaded the next picture as he waved at the camera, but in the top corner stood Starsha, alone at the crest of the hill. Wind swept her hair in a golden-red wave, and her blue dress rippled like the rising tide. As always, her eyes turned upward to the green world that lay just beyond Iscandar.

You never gave up on him… Or on us—on Earth. Alex let the comm fall into his lap. The EDF envelope crunched. He tugged it from under the device and held it up to the light. A single piece of paper shadowed the interior. With one rip he broke the top seal and tugged out the paper. A trifolded letter fell open along with a five by seven insert.

At the top was the Commander's seal.

Captain Alex Wildstar, formerly of the Earth Defense Force gunship Yukikaze,

After your year hiatus, we hereby extend to you this invitation of reenlistment. A position at the Tokyo Headquarters has opened, and we consider you to be the best candidate. Enclosed is a summary of the position, and a list of expected duties.

Please return your response in person, or in writing within a week of receipt of this offer.

Commander C.T. Singleton

Singleton's signature lay just below his typed name.

Go back? He gripped the paper so hard it crinkled and left finger marks in the formerly pristine sheet. He folded the paper and shoved it and the job information back into the envelope. No. It's too soon. He picked up the comm again.

What would you do, Starsha?

"I hope you will not let it poison yours too." Her words returned.

An ache grew in his chest. How do I keep a war like the one we just fought out of my heart? The envelope beckoned.

He took out the offer again and read the enclosed card. Not as glamorous as a combat posting… but not bad either.

With a sigh, he tucked his comm away and got up. On the back of the summons, he wrote, "I, Alexander M. Wildstar accept this offer of reenlistment." He dated, signed and placed the paper in a new envelope.

I suppose this is as good a start as any. He pulled on a jacket and shoes and left to deliver his answer.


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