Adam shrugged. “Pretty much the same way.”
“I just ate,” Keeling interjected. “Is there any way we could not talk about Pilgrims mating? If you want to hear some good stories, you might as well…”
“If you children are done with story time,” the Oterian instructor roared as he entered the room, “then I believe we are ready to pick back up with your training.”
The entire team let out a simultaneous groan.
Keryn tried her best to stay on her feet at the end of their training, but wound up succumbing to her exhaustion and collapsing into a nearby chair. Her breath was labored as she tried to breathe through ribs that she was sure were broken. Though she had tried to ensure equal time with the instructor for everyone on her team, Keryn had the unfortunate pleasure of being selected to spar against the Oterian for a second round. She remembered a few tricks from their previous combat, but it had mattered little in the end. By the time they were through, Keryn was once again staring at a spinning ceiling from the flat of her back.
Now alone in the training room, she shifted positions in her chair, trying to reach the bruise that she knew was spreading between her shoulder blades. If she remembered nothing else from her training, she would always remember that a stern punch between the shoulder blades was enough to stun nearly any race in the Alliance.
As she finished grimacing from the pain and opened her eyes, she was surprised to see a large fur-covered hand holding out a glass of water. Looking up, she met the gaze of her instructor. Keryn nodded her appreciation as she began to sip the water, savoring the burn in her raw throat.
“Thank you,” she said hoarsely. She took another drink before continuing. “I’m surprised you stuck around.”
“I made a promise that I would,” the Oterian said quietly, his voice still carrying in the empty room.
Keryn looked up inquisitively. “Promise?”
“I’m your last instructor, Keryn. You’ve been trained on every major topic that we thought you might need. My job was to determine if you not only retained that previous knowledge, but that you were ready to face Cardax in battle when the time arose.”
“So you were testing us?”
The Oterian turned away, though his voice was still clear. “Did you wonder why an Oterian was teaching you hand-to-hand combat? My race has vastly superior strength to the other races of the Alliance, but if you wanted the best combat instructors, you pick a Wyndgaart. So why me?”
Keryn nodded, realizing that this was yet another test. “Because Cardax is an Oterian.”
“Exactly. It didn’t make any sense to have you learn to fight against a Wyndgaart when your target is an Oterian. You needed to learn my race’s weaknesses, few as they may be.”
“But you beat us every single time we fought.”
The instructor turned back to her. “You’re right. Fighting isn’t the only lesson I can teach you. I can also teach you humility. You don’t like losing; I can see it in your face. But when you realize that you’re not always going to be the best, you will learn to lean on others for support. All of you were able to hold your own against me by the end of today. Maybe not defeat me, but at least impress me. I have injuries that I’ll be nursing tomorrow as well. But if I were attacked by all of you, not just in hand-to-hand combat but with you all carrying your pistols and rifles as well, I wouldn’t stand a chance. You’re a team now, regardless of your individual feelings for your teammates. Use their strengths and you’ll be bringing Cardax back within no time.”
Keryn smiled as she stood. “So we’re leaving?”
“You’ll be departing tomorrow,” the Oterian replied. “Good luck.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Yen sat in the cramped confines of the engine compartment on board one of the Cair transport ships. A series of tools lay strewn across the floor next to him, mostly forgotten. For over three hours, Yen had been tinkering with the new warp generators that the High Council had installed on all the ships in his Squadron. He couldn’t shake the sense of distrust both toward the generators and the Council, but found solace sitting and analyzing the new machines. Even so, his interest in the generators had waned nearly an hour before and, since that time, he had remained in the engine compartment, lost in thought.
Focused on his own thoughts, Yen didn’t hear the hatch door on the Cair open, nor did he notice the soft, quiet steps as someone approached the back of the ship where Yen sat huddled. He had left the engine compartment door open and was clearly visible to anyone inside the ship.
“Is this a private party or can anyone join?”
Yen looked over as Iana stooped lower, examining the engine and trying to deduce what caught Yen’s attention so intently. With a brush of his hand, Yen pushed the tools aside. Sliding over, Yen made room for Iana to squeeze into the engine compartment and take a confined seat beside him.
“You’ve been in here for hours with this thing,” she said, reaching out and running a finger along the top of the newly installed black cylinder. “Since it’s still in one piece, I can only assume that you didn’t find anything interesting. I mean, to keep your attention for all this time, I would expect the generator to be doing tricks.”
“No, nothing interesting,” Yen responded flatly.
Iana shrugged. “From that sour expression, I’m guessing you heard the news.”
Yen picked up a wrench and turned it back and forth absently, letting it draw in his attention. Eventually, he sighed heavily. “I knew she’d be leaving soon, so I shouldn’t be surprised. Somehow, I just thought we’d have more time together. After all this time, I feel like I’m finally connecting with Keryn in ways I didn’t even know were possible. But instead of us getting the chance to explore our relationship and see where it could lead, she’s going to be heading off on her mission.”
“When I was young,” Iana said softly, placing a hand on Yen’s arm, “my father always told me that it is not the decisions we make, but rather the decisions that are made for us, that define who we become.”
Yen looked up, confused. “I don’t follow.”
“Would you agree that you’re at a pretty important crossroad in your life?”
Yen nodded.
“Well, right now you can choose one of two paths. Either you can pine away for Keryn and hope day after day that both you and she will survive your missions, find one another, and convince the High Council not to separate you for missions ever again…”
Yen frowned. “Or?”
“Or you accept that you don’t get to make a decision this time. She’s leaving, no matter what you choose to do about it. But right now we need a Squadron Commander who is focused on the mission ahead instead of being focused on the girl he’s leaving behind.”
“When did you suddenly become full of sage wisdom?” Yen asked moodily.
“Didn’t you know? Big surprises; little packages. I think the better question is: why do I get the feeling this is not the last time you and I are going to have this conversation?”
Yen smiled, but the mirth didn’t erase the sadness in his eyes. Iana squeezed his arm gently, her own face filled with genuine concern.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Yen said, nodding. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be so affected by Keryn leaving.” Sighing, he rubbed his face with his hands. “But you’re right; I do need to focus on something else for a while.”
At Yen’s urging, Iana climbed out of the cramped engine compartment and left the Cair ship with Yen close behind. Finally in a more spacious area, Yen stretched and groaned as he tried to loosen stiff muscles.
“So what’s the first bit of business we need to take care of?” he asked, glad to have Iana close by to change the subject.
“Well, you do have an entire ground assault team still waiting to find out exactly what they’ll be doing once you land on the surface.”