The engineers and scientists chittered excitedly as they launched into their explanations, but Tassie heard none of it. The Elders were paying close attention to today’s potentially deadly test flight, and it filled her with dread. Only a select few knew of the new engine technology and almost all of them were present in the meeting room with her.

  The debrief was important but mostly redundant. She already knew how the technology functioned and what the mission plan was, having been told so directly by General Nessah. Her frayed nerves did little to help calm her and put her in the zone she needed to be in to pilot the ship in the coming minutes.

  After three days back on Verilia’s main military base, her ship had been retrofitted with the new engines. It was idling in one of the many docking bays, ready for takeoff.

  Before she knew it, Tassie was sitting at the pilot’s station in the familiar bridge. Mission control gave her the countdown and she started the engines. They thrummed as they turned on, ready to be used for the first time. She was instructed to bring the ship out into space. When she made it there without blowing up, the next phase commenced.

  She had no real practice with the controls but followed the instructions to set the flight path for entering warp. It was to be a short jump, one that would only last ten minutes. The distance travelled, however, would normally take them over ten times longer with standard engines.

  The new countdown hit zero and Tassie hit the switch.

  She disappeared without a trace and the Elders waited with bated breath for the longest ten minutes of their lives. They had all convened in a meeting and were watching real-time for the results of the flight. Exactly ten minutes later and not a second more, Tassie’s ship phased back into existence and sent a signal back to Verilia, confirming her safe arrival. The ships on standby at the location she jumped to also sent visual confirmation that she had arrived safely.

  Her voice rang out through their communications channel. “Mission success,” she said, the relief evident in her strained voice. “Commencing return procedure.” Should she be able to survive another jump and replicate her feat by coming back to Verilia safely, the Tribunal would consider the technology sound and would begin retrofitting their entire fleet as quickly as possible.

  Ten minutes later, she reappeared in Verilia’s controlled space around the planet, safe and sound.

  Tassie was officially recorded as the first person in history to successfully pilot the ground-breaking technology, proving their theories and propelling them into a golden age of space travel.

  The conference call ended and Maraz slumped in his chair in his office, tears of relief watering in his eyes. This marked the second major breakthrough he had managed to successfully prove and implement. Their military would forever be changed by the new engines, and the technology opened avenues of research never before thought possible.

  Not only that, but the weapons the gru’ul had used when firing on Jyn’s team during their initial scouting mission so long ago had also been successfully replicated. And adapted to their ships. Already, those were being mass produced to be added alongside their current arsenal and soon even their weakest ship would be a juggernaut, able to dish out more damage than ever before. The other factions would tremble before their prowess, unable to withstand their overwhelming force.

  Even though the other factions lacked their shield technology that could withstand the shots, Maraz was forced to recognize that in the coming war with the gru’ul, their shields wouldn’t be enough. They could only handle several shots from the new weapons before becoming useless.

  And that was only from the weapons they knew of.

  He shuddered at the thought of there being worse weapons available to the gru’ul. Now that the engines had proven successful, he would have to focus his team’s research efforts elsewhere if they wanted to have a fighting chance.

  He heaved a heavy sigh, the added responsibility weighing greatly on him. It would never be enough. There was no way they could prepare for the gru’ul technology when they knew so little. Already, their engines had revolutionized physics for them. What else did the gru’ul have in store?

  Maraz ran his hands over his face. He was due a distraction. Something — anything — that could take his mind off of the monumental task the War Tribunal had of keeping their species alive and out of the hands of the gru’ul.

  Eyeing his data slate, he picked it up and opened their most recent discovery, sent to them by Rann. Reya’s song was unlike anything he’d ever heard before. While perhaps not as ground-breaking as their more recent forays into adapting gru’ul technology, he still acknowledged the immense potential her music had to alter their culture.

  For too long, their world had been boring. Stale. Adrian’s music breathed colour into their lives and filled them with something Maraz never knew was missing. Reya’s adaptation marked the first instance of an a’vaare creating something so wonderful. That it could be reproduced by anyone with enough skill still boggled his mind.

  He called up the sheet music for the song. Every part was meticulously transcribed. What he remembered from Adrian’s music lesson allowed him to decipher some of what was written, but there was still a great deal he wasn’t sure of.

  Reya’s song had come as a welcome shock to the Tribunal. He’d even noticed Cirrus drumming her fingers to the beat during the many times they replayed it before everyone. Reya’s stunning ability to compose something so beautiful and haunting that stayed with them even after it was done playing had sparked a long discussion between the Elders about what to do with Adrian’s knowledge.

  The end result was that it would finally be shown to their researchers, to see what they thought of it. With the test flight taking priority, it had been decided that the knowledge would only be disseminated after confirming whether the new engines worked as theorized.

  Bolstered by that success, Maraz summoned his assistant Lona to his office, eager to show her his notes and the art Reya had produced. Since the meeting three days ago when Rann had sent them the song, they had put together an abridged version of Adrian’s notes to lay the foundation for the rest of the world.

  It was finally time to see just how much Adrian, and now Reya, would alter their culture.

  He heard Lona’s knock on his office door and let her in. “Most Honourable Elder,” she said deferentially, “you’ve called me here for something official. Has there been another discovery that needs research?” Truthfully, she was sweating bullets. It was exceptionally rare she got an official summons from Maraz. They mostly had an informal relationship, given how closely they worked together. This meeting felt different to her, but she couldn’t figure out what the problem might be.

  “You could say that,” Maraz started slowly, gesturing for her to sit down in the chair in front of his desk. Once the bundle of nerves before him sat down, he continued. “There’s been a revolutionary breakthrough, and I’d like to hear your thoughts on it.”

  Lona frowned. “This required a formal meeting? Is it more important than the engine technology? Or those new organs?” Her mind ran through many scenarios in an attempt to decipher what prompted such formality from her boss. Ultimately, she came up short.

  “It depends on who you ask. While the engines will propel us into a new golden age of science, this discovery will propel us into a golden age of culture.” Maraz eagerly prepared the song on his data slate but didn’t play it yet.

  Lona blinked. That was not what she’d been expecting. “And what exactly is going to be revolutionized by this mystery discovery?”

  “Music,” Maraz said simply. “New instruments, new theories, new everything. I have the first recorded song using what we’ve learned.” He waited patiently for his assistant to mull over what he’d just revealed to her. She motioned for him to play it, and he tapped the start button on his data slate. Reya’s voice came spilling out of the speakers, her bass reverberating in their chests as she sang her heart out.

  By the time the song was done, he had one very stunned assistant.

  “By the gods,” Lona breathed. “What was that?” Her tongue was tied as she searched for the right words to say. “What were those sounds? How were they made?”

  Maraz smiled at her enthusiasm. “The new technology for making music isn’t even the best part.” He paused for dramatic effect, enjoying watching her lean forward in her seat to hear more. “A system for written music has been developed. This song has been written down such that any person of sufficient skill can reproduce any part of it.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Impossible,” Lona said immediately. “It’s been proven futile to even attempt such a thing. How could anybody read sounds?” Her firm denial prompted Maraz to take out the notes he’d prepared for that exact occasion.

  “Here,” he said, “let me show you.”

  Jyn sat at the kitchen table in an awkward silence. In front of him was a very pale Stanley, his newest charge. Unlike his issues with Adrian, Jyn had no qualms with this man other than his hideous skin colour.

  How Reya could love something the wrong colour still baffled him.

  Yet, he didn’t hold it against the living test subject that sat across from him. It wasn’t his fault he was a freak. The only problem he had was that he could barely communicate with the man. He didn’t understand why the gru’ul bothered to teach Adrian the a’vaarian language but not Stanley, but it was what it was.

  He tried not to stare too much while the man ate his lunch, instead preferring to read the news on his data slate while stealing the occasional glance. He’d been given very strict orders to treat Stanley better than Adrian. Jyn didn’t see the issue with how Adrian was treated, but rather than anger the Tribunal and risk their wrath, he decided to play extra nice.

  It was pushing his limits, but it wouldn’t deter him from accomplishing his mission to the degree of excellence he had all the previous ones. His teammates were slacking in their duties, and he refused for their mission to fail because of it. If it meant working extra, then so be it.

  Stanley coughed a horrid, wet cough into his hands, pulling Jyn from his thoughts. When they came back slick with blood, Jyn immediately put down his data slate in concern. Stanley’s coughing was becoming more frequent, and this was the first time Jyn had seen him cough blood.

  “Are you alright?” Jyn asked, genuinely concerned. He stood up and fetched the cloth by the sink, passing it to Stanley as quickly as possible. Rather than answer, Stanley coughed once more into the cloth, staining it red like his hands.

  When his coughing fit subsided, Stanley replied, “I’m fine.” His accent was barely understandable, and his pronunciation was off, but Jyn managed to understand all the same. He remained unconvinced that Stanley was alright.

  “Does this happen often?” Jyn asked, worried that there might be something seriously wrong with his charge’s health. He couldn’t afford for anything to happen to him.

  It took Stanley a moment to parse through what Jyn said. He shook his head no, still finding it difficult to reply without another coughing fit. Jyn eyed him carefully. He wasn’t willing to take any chances. He went back to his seat, picked up his data slate and called Kell. After explaining the situation to him, the doctor immediately halted reviewing his research notes and rushed down the stairs from his room upstairs to come examine his patient.

  Kell arrived not a minute later with a medical kit in hand. One look at the extremely pale Stanley made his eyes turn wide. “I’m glad you called me,” he told Jyn. “I’m going to bring him back to his room to properly examine him. Can I bring him alone or should I have Beor accompany me?”

  Jyn thought for a moment. While he doubted Stanley would be able to cause any harm in his current condition, he wasn’t willing to take any chances. “Bring Beor with you, just in case. If Stanley passes out on the way to his room, Beor can catch him and bring him the rest of the way without anybody getting hurt. Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

  Kell bit his lip, unsure just how much he could reveal without going against his orders. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure how to treat it. I’m going to need to run tests to be certain.” They both eyed Stanley, who had turned dangerously pale and swayed in his chair. He was no longer paying attention to them, and his eyes had turned glassy. “Call Beor now,” Kell urged. “I don’t think we can wait any longer.”

  Jyn immediately summoned his teammate. He knew that Beor was out back at the fire pit along with Reya, Rann, and Adrian. Expecting only Beor to come, he was surprised when all of them came inside to see what the problem was. “You didn’t all need to come,” Jyn told the others. “We can handle the situation here just fine.”

  Adrian took one look at Stanley. “He really doesn’t look good. Will you need any help bringing him to his bed?”

  “That’s what Beor is for,” Jyn snapped. “Don’t go meddling into things that are none of your business. I don’t want you on the ship unsupervised.”

  Reya put a hand on Adrian’s arm before he could quip back, not wanting the situation to devolve into something far worse than it already was. “We understand. We’re just concerned and want to help.”

  “We’ve got it covered,” Jyn said stiffly. “Adrian, if you want to make yourself useful, explain to your friend that we need to have him lie down and be examined by Kell. I’m not sure he’d understand us if we tried talking to him.”

  Inwardly, Adrian fumed. He bit back his reply and calmly spoke with Stanley. Reya was the only one that understood the conversation, even though she didn’t understand all of it. Glad that her language lessons were paying off, she did her best to commit it to memory to ask Adrian about the words she didn’t understand later.

  Stanley, for once, wasn’t against being checked out by the doctor. He was feeling weak enough that he was forced to admit that he needed medical attention. He stood up from his chair and teetered when he tried walking towards his room. Beor immediately put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from falling over.

  “I’ll help him get there safely,” Beor said, concerned by how Stanley was acting. “Although, at this rate I might end up carrying him.” Adrian proposed just that to Stanley but was waved off instead. He informed Beor that Stanley was adamant he make it on his own.

  Kell, Beor, and Stanley slowly left, leaving the others behind. The door to Stanley’s room closed and Adrian ran a hand over his face. “Shit,” he swore. “He’s getting worse.”

  Jyn frowned. “What do you mean worse? He’s coughed a bit before, but has it really been that bad?” Given the strange skin colour of both Adrian and Stanley, Jyn still had trouble identifying what wasn’t a normal shade of tan for both of them. While it had been obvious just now — Stanley had paled so much he looked like a ghost — Jyn couldn’t recall the man being that bad before today.

  Reya and Adrian exchanged a glance. “You mean you don’t know?” Adrian hedged. He knew certain information was being kept from the others by Tassie and Kell, but he’d lost track of who knew what by this point.

  “What was I supposed to know?” Jyn said, a dangerous edge to his voice. It baffled him how two non-military people knew more than the mission’s active participants.

  Adrian glanced at Reya. “Are we even allowed to tell them anything?” he asked her.

  Reya hesitated. “If they haven’t been told anything, probably not. It has to do with Kell’s research, and he reports directly to the Tribunal for that.” It surprised her that the others had no real information on Stanley’s state of health.

  Jyn’s anger only grew. He was tired of being kept in the dark as the team’s leader. It was his job to know these things so as to better proceed with their missions. The amount of secrets floating around pissed him off since they interfered the mission’s success. He couldn’t lead a team with so little information. Especially not during the most important mission of their careers. “What don’t we know about Stanley?” he asked again.

  “We can’t tell you anything without checking in with Kell at the very least,” Reya said carefully. Even though she was technically no longer military, she was wary of getting on the Tribunal’s bad side. She’d already defied them more than anyone had the right to. She didn’t want to go around revealing things she knew they wanted kept quiet.

  Jyn exploded.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Jyn swore, his mask cracking and his anger finally showing, “is getting a little bit of information really too much to ask for? All I’m asking for is basic information on how to do my job! I can’t do anything when I’m consistently the one that knows the least!”

  The others simply stared at him, taken aback by his display.

  Jyn pointed at Adrian. “You,” he continued, “are the person hiding the most secrets. All we want to know is what happened to you, but no! You refuse to budge and help us. So much of what we’ve painstakingly been working towards could be solved by you. Instead, you make everybody’s lives needlessly complicated with all of your drama.” He turned to Reya, his anger finding a new target. “Somehow you end up learning more classified information than the rest of us who shouldn’t know anything, and you keep it to yourself even when the gods damn Tribunal asks you for it. You defied the highest governing body of our faction.”

  “Jyn,” Rann said placatingly, hoping to deescalate the situation before it turned into a total shit show, “you already know that what happened to them was atrocious. It’s fine if they don’t want to talk about it. That’s why Tassie and Irric are doing their research.”

  “We would’ve advanced far faster by now if we knew where to look!” Jyn refuted. “We don’t have the time to play around and consider everybody’s feelings. There’s only a limited window of opportunity for us to learn all we can about the gru’ul before other factions contest it. That could result in another war if they try to take it by force.”

  “You think there will be wars over what we’ve found?” Rann asked.

  “The chance to study the gru’ul’s technological wonders is something every society would clamour for,” Jyn replied harshly.

  “Nobody knows the facility exists and we have the strongest military out of all the factions. It would be suicide for them to fight us,” Rann said.

  “If we had our entire fleet, maybe,” Jyn said. “Right now there’s only half our fleet protecting the facility. That’s putting Verilia in a precarious position. If our enemies rally together, they’ll be able to overwhelm us.”

  Rann paused, considering Jyn’s point of view. She sincerely doubted a war would break out anytime soon given the secrecy of the mission, yet another part of her worried. The world was already suspicious that one of the flagships was missing. The other factions surely knew of that fact by now. She glanced back towards Reya and Adrian. “Do you really want to rehash this?” Rann asked. “They’re allowed not to tell us anything.”

  “Now we listen to the Tribunal’s directives?” Jyn said furiously. “Nobody on the team apart from Tassie and Kell knows what’s going on. We could if only they told us, like we’ve asked. Instead they know more than us! That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t owe you any answers,” Adrian said coldly. “You know nothing, understand nothing. You never will, no matter how much I say.”

  “Did you not hear what I said?” Jyn spat. “People’s lives are at stake. Because of your continued selfishness, they might all die.”

  “I’m sure your military is doing a fantastic job uncovering information about the facility and its technology without our input,” Adrian said.

  “You insufferable piece of shit, why don’t any of you get it? This isn’t a game!” Jyn roared. “All you need to do is listen!”

  Reya froze.

  The mechanical voice of a translator rang clearly in her head, and she swore she felt a claw gouge deep into her flesh on her back. “All you need to do is listen,” they’d told her. A shudder passed through her.

  “Just listen.” Their voices merged with Jyn’s as he continued his tirade. The answer to ending her pain was right there waiting to be uttered. “If only you listened.” Too slow to speak, she could only relive that awful, horrible moment. Step by step, the gru’ul approached her, bringing the syringe full of nightmares to her skin.

  The needle pierced.

  And her mind retreated to avoid from breaking from the pain.