Disclaimer: Aliens can't own Twilight.
3
London, Terra, 2621
Astra quickly popped the tip of her index finger into her mouth, tongue soothing away the sharp burn from the snap of electricity that had managed to sting her before her reflexes prompted a reaction. She wasn't trained in any form of engineering – in fact, despite the advanced technology she handled daily, Astra was rather unskilled with technology in general. Unlike most people her age, she had never taken apart a com-unit and the only computer course she had taken had been mere months ago during her first semester at the Federation Academy; these were the disadvantages of being a gypsy. And while she understood the basic processes and could perhaps manage to tool her way out of a technical or engineering emergency, she had never built anything in her life – a fact that was glaring in her face now.
It didn't help that the steadily growing headache she'd had for over a month and a half had chosen this day in particular to be sadistic. She wanted nothing more than to turn away from the project on her desk and huddle beneath the thin blanket on her gel-bed, away from the world and away from the steady pulse of her skull. It hurt more today than any other day, but that made sense; if she bothered to think about it in depth, she might have realized that a tiny ache had begun the day she found out that Khai had run away off-planet and that the ache had grown worse by increments as the days passed.
But she didn't think about it in depth.
Because that would be like admitting that she missed him.
Which she didn't.
Her eyes glare down at the assorted silver-white metals on her desk, shiny silver-chrome pieces, thin tools, slicks of grease, and the bane of her existence – the diatium power cell, which had to be the moodiest piece of technology she had ever had the displeasure of handling. She was having trouble getting the circuits of the power cell to route through the chamber; Astra supposed she could have asked Rosy for assistance because Rosy had already offered to help, but Astra had to prove a point.
Lately, she felt like proving herself was all she did. She pushed herself harder than she ever had in her life, her body growing stronger through bruises and lacerations, and she spent a good portion of each week in the infirmary. Doctor Carl appeared concerned, having taken on a big-brother persona after she yelled at him several weeks ago; she'd long since forgiven him for sending her blood to the Intergalactic Database, though she did say that she wished he'd asked permission beforehand. Carl was appropriately apologetic and chastised her for her own recklessness as he treated her, even when he was nervous and twitchy, which Astra had grown to accept as his natural demeanor. Ja'asper, on the other hand, encouraged her aggression and pushed her past her own assumed limits, even stepping up her physical training outside of learning how to wield a saber to push the boundaries of her stamina – and Astra found that since she discovered that half of her genetic material was Giidas, she was able to overcome Terran limits. When she came back to the dorm after dinner, exhausted and sore, Rosy would look to Mari'Ahlice, who would calmly assess the situation with a knowing gleam in her rose quartz eyes.
Astra drew the conclusion that, for Mari'Ahlice and her seer Gods, her fate must be going along as planned. Sometimes, in the dark of night when Astra finally let her body relax, her mind drifted to the premonition that Ahlice had related to her – that her love would be separated by distance. Astra trusted Ahlice's intuition over her own and knew, without any doubt, that the premonition had come true, though Astra was unsure if it was love she felt for the Lieutenant Commander.
Ah. No longer a Lieutenant Commander, is he? Got a promotion out there in space, risked his life and became a Commander.
Astra ignores the swell of pride she feels for him, pushes it down into the farthest reaches of her mind, beneath layers of hurt and betrayal and confusion – beneath everything she had already contained for him after…whatever had happened between them. It was something. Was it something important? She thought so but – he left. Maybe it wasn't important.
Maybe she wasn't important.
Even if Astra refused to linger on those thoughts, she knew part of the reason she pushed herself so hard – perhaps the largest part – was because yet another person had left her. It was basic psychology; people left Astra and, in response, she punished herself to prove that she was worth something, at least to herself. She knew it wasn't healthy, but she couldn't help it. Proving her worth was bone-deep. Unavoidable.
Astra sighs, staring at the power cell, and dips the tips of two fingers into slick grease, carefully pushing on the powerful battery until it clicked into place, snug inside the chamber of the powerfield conductor. Finally. It was a small step, a basic component, and she finally made progress without being zapped by the moody contraption.
Sergeant Dmitri, she found, had a peculiar method of teaching. He was very gruff, insulting, belittling – but he got the desired results. He demanded nothing short of perfection and lost, on average, two students a week. Sabers, as it turns out, were more dangerous than any other weapon he trained students with – more so because sabers themselves were new to Academy curriculum. A significant part of the training was the Sergeant urging cadets to build their own sabers, one that is unique to them, a saber that only that cadet could wield.
If Astra could build her own saber, then she would be eligible for the qualifying exam that allowed her to bring the weapon onboard the starship she was to be commissioned on. And that was the plan – she was sticking to it. She would be among the stars.
Her stomach growls angrily, loudly, and Astra yawns, eyes darting to her small window. Dawn rising over London dyed the city with pinks and yellows; she was familiar with the sight as she hadn't slept past dawn for over a month, the constant nagging headache keeping her awake. Astra was well and truly exhausted, yet she couldn't sleep. She pushes away from her desk, inputting the protein-rich breakfast she had grown accustomed to in the Replicator and slipping into her bathroom for a honey-scented sonic shower. Body barely dry, Astra steps into heavy weighted white pants, fabric baggy against her thighs, tucked into chunky boots; she straps the weighted belt around her hips, adding more squares of weight onto the ankles of her boots, around her wrists. The belt hangs lower on one side of her body, causing her hips to sway more to the left when she walks – when she was allowed to carry a saber on her person, the weight of the weapon would mimic the weight of the belt.
She eats quickly, studying the blueprint laying beneath the various parts of her saber. She'd asked Sergeant Dmitri for a very specific design and it was proving to be more difficult than she anticipated. She wanted her saber to recognize her by blood instead of fingerprinting like most sabers; she felt that her saber would be harder for another person to use because, as far as she was aware, she was the only hybrid around. In last weeks demonstration, the Sergeant had shown exactly how dangerous sabers could be; the laser was so hot and concentrated that it could cut off and cauterize limbs, melt metal, disrupt energy force fields, and start a fire. She gathered that Sergeant Dmitri was trying to scare students away – but the demonstration only made her more determined to work with an actual saber instead of the training-sabers, which only utilized weak light.
Her pocket-com rings from inside her cloak's pocket, a reminder that she was running late for her daily jog with Ja'asper. She quickly incinerates the scraps of her meal and slips the cloak over her shoulders; her newest cloak is lighter than most, and shorter, falling just to her hips with a high standing collar, no hood, the color of the Northern icecaps. Her muscles shift beneath her heavy pants and shoes as she slips out of her room, nearly running into Mari'Ahlice and the blank, dilated eyes that indicated Ahlice was having a premonition; that expression never failed to send chills down Astra's spine.
Mari'Ahlice reaches forward, unblinking, her hand cupping the side of Astra's face. "Violence will make his guilt linger," she whispers in perfect Prix'arie.
Astra shakes her head, dislodging Ahlice's wandering fingertips. "Mari'Ahlice, what are you talking about? Who is he?"
"Forgiveness is the key. Violence will make his guilt linger."
Astra huffs in frustration, watching as Ahlice walks away gracefully, standing in the middle of their small living room with a perfectly blank expression, her eyes drawn towards the ceiling; she follows the tiny Piarie, catching the sight of an open box of familiar neon candies beside a cup of bright green tea. Astra's hand rubs her forehead as she looks helplessly as Rosy, who was cleaning up her latest project from the low coffee table. "I thought we all agreed that Ahlice will only do this on the weekends," she prods.
Rosy's orange eyes fall sharply on Astra's face, a frown etched onto her plush mouth. "Don't look at me," she says defensively. "I woke up and found her punching quite happily on those hallucinogens. You look like shit, by the way."
"Thanks," Astra replies dryly, swirls of self-consciousness pulling at her mind. She knew the heavy bags under her eyes were not doing her any favors – but she couldn't sleep through the headache and Carl said she had no physical symptoms that he could treat. "I'm late for my run. Is it safe to leave her?"
Rosy waves a grease-smudged hand, pushing her tumbling blond hair away from her face. "I don't have a class until eleven today," she says by way of explanation.
Astra nods and moves towards the door, pausing when they slide open. "Rosy?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm working on building my saber and I noticed on the blueprint that I need two quartz crystals in a diamond cut. Do you know where I can find any?"
Rosy purses her lips. "I usually have half a dozen lying around my room. Drop by after dinner and take a couple off my hands."
Astra offers a wide, genuine smile. "Thanks."
By the time Astra reaches the edge of campus, that smile has disappeared, the headache pounding with too-sharp intensity; she squinted at the sun, head bowed, as she approached her friend. Ja'asper is waiting, arms crossed over his chest, his icy eyes narrowed at the holo-projection of his pocket-com. "You're late."
"Sorry. My roommate, the Piarie, had a vision."
Astra completely misses the way Ja'asper's eyes light up at the mention of the only Piarie on campus, and for that, he's glad. He wasn't terribly comfortable with his crush in the first place – no need for his best friend to be aware of it too. "Let's get going, then. You have all your weights?" he asks, hoping his voice is as neutral as he wants it to be.
Astra nods, feeling the heavy weights on her ankles, and falls into a light stretch beside Ja'asper. The idea behind the weights strapped onto her body while running was for purely conditioning purposes; the weights paired with the movement would train and strengthen her tendons, making it harder for her ankles to break during other types of training. Her body was stronger than she ever thought it could be and it showed when she easily kept pace beside Ja'asper's long, fast strides. They ran 5 miles in under an hour, pushing each other faster; each time Astra ran forward, her hip swayed more to the left, mimicking the feel of how a saber would react to this type of movement.
She liked it.
Ja'asper leads them back onto campus after the five miles, slowing their run by tiny increments on the way. "You look terrible," he started conversationally, his fast jog fading into a walk. It was true – his teenaged friend did look worn out, beat down. He wondered if she noticed how devastated she looked all the time. Her face was more defined from losing weight and growing up, and her body was strong with lean muscles, but in her grey wisp eyes, Ja'asper sensed complete depression. It worried him – it was also the reason he allowed Astra to be pushed as far as she could possibly stand it. He thought the physical exertion helped numb her mind from whatever had changed a month ago. "Sad?"
Astra had learned many things from Ja'asper over the last month and a half – she had adopted his steely resolve, his icy detachment, the inherent stubbornness that was borne from the metal in his bones. She leaned on that strength now, or tried to, at least. "I'm not sad," she insists, feeling how hollow the words sound coming from her mouth.
Ja'asper raises a single metallic brow. "That sounds like denial," he tells her, entering the building and waiting for the turbolift. And it did sould like denial – it looked like denial.
He wasn't completely oblivious, as she might have liked to think. He'd noticed Professor Khai's reaction when Astra had been hurt and the one brief moment he had seen them on campus together, they were in their own intimate little world. He realized that the discovery of her genes might have rocked her self-image but he'd also noticed that when Professor Khai left, Astra had begun to spiral out of control. Ja'asper wasn't sure there was anything more he could do; enabling her as he had wasn't doing her any favors. Though Me'atal people were known for their detachment and obsession with honor, they also confronted their feelings head-on, a trait which Ja'asper hoped Astra might pick up on. But she was so lost in that head of hers that Ja'asper wasn't sure she would ever come back.
Something had to break. Something had to change. With a ironic twist of his lips, Ja'asper begins planning. By the time this training session was over, Astra would be facing her emotions.
He sighs heavily. "But, then again, I guess you gypsies lie about a lot of things, right?"
She ignores him on the turbolift, feeling her jaw clench as her breathing levels out from their warm-up run. Ja'asper was playing at something and she was determined to avoid falling into that trap.
He continues as they step off the turbolift. "Be honest. How much have you stolen in your life? You're very good at running – I bet that came in handy."
Astra's eyes flash red with irritation. "I haven't ever needed to steal," she says forcefully. Not after I learned to use my li'lute to get money, at least. Not after Nanini died.
Ja'asper snorts, a nasty sound, his cold eyes cutting as he marches through the gym. "And I don't need to breathe. Lying again gypsy?"
Her mind clicks with intuition, eyes burning the brightest blue and she seethes internally behind him. She knew exactly what Ja'asper was doing – intentionally riling her up, for no other reason than the fact that he could. He wanted to provoke a reaction that she had yet to give him in practice. She understood that.
It didn't mean that she had to like it. In fact, she was getting rather vexed by it, the pounding of her headache doing nothing to cool her irritation.
Silently, they enter the training room, the mirror-lined walls, and sink into cooling stretches, and then floor exercises that utilized gymnastics; due to Astra's smaller frame, she was much better at this part of her training that Ja'asper would ever be.
But Ja'asper was very good at other things, including testing how good her improvising is – as she is about to ease out of her handspring, Ja'asper's foot swipes one of her hands away. Astra instantly corrects her weight distribution, pivoting her body on her wrist to fall into a low roll on the floor, her leg already aiming for Ja'asper's knee. He dodges smoothly.
The silence that she had been enjoying shattered as he bounced on his toes. "Don't be such a girl, gypsy. You'll never beat a man with predictable moves like that."
She glares at him, eyes dark red, face flushing with pink-lilac heat, hands clenched as she kneels on one knee – she says nothing, but he can tell her jaw is clenched.
Good. Get mad, he thinks. Feel something real again!
"What? Are you getting mad?" Ja'asper taunted, flexing his hands, the metal lacing his joints flashing in the low lights of the gym. "Are you going to hit me?"
Astra shot him a look that suggested she was thinking about it.
"I don't think you can," he goaded, dancing closer on the balls of his feet, a rhythmic, graceful bounce for a man with such heavy bones.
Astra strikes without warning, her body rolling through a smooth somersault, feet swiping against his, managing to clip his ankle; her movements continue, lightening-quick, aiming sharp punches to various points on Ja'asper's body. In a smooth arc, she stands, one leg swinging, missing his chin – Astra lands on that foot and melts into another roundhouse kick, elbows glued to her sides. She exhales when her aim strikes true and Ja'asper sprawls against the mats.
She stands still, watching him, breathing steady, eyes still tinted with red. "I'm mad. Does that make you happy?"
Ja'asper sits up on his elbows, offering a smile as he wipes dark blue blood off his lips – he thinks she might have dislodged a tooth, which was impressive given his biology. "It makes me relieved. I was honestly getting worried about you. You've been acting…odd."
Have I? she wonders. More quiet, sure, but that's just the headaches. Isn't it?
Astra presses her palm against her forehead, as if she can keep the rioting of her headache sealed inside. "Glad I can be of service," she tells him dryly, shaking off the odd feeling rolling through her chest, holding a hand out to help him stand.
Ja'asper takes her hand, looking at her palm, pulling himself up, his tall body towering over hers. He smiles. "Tell me, Halfling, do you have those touch telepath skills?"
Astra pulls her hand away, shrugging. "No, I don't. At least, I don't think so. And don't call me Halfling."
He rubs his jaw. "You pack a hell of a kick either way. I didn't teach you how to combine the gymnastics yet," he says, thinking back to the fluid movements her body made. "Did you look at a holo vid?"
Astra shakes her head. "No, I just…did it."
In truth, until he mentioned it, she hadn't even realized she'd done anything like that – or realized that she could do anything like that. She wondered where those movements came from and how she just seemed to know them. Maybe it had something to do with her genes.
Ja'asper wonders the same thing as he walks to the side of the room, picking up two training sabers, eying Astra hesitantly as he tosses one in her direction. His jaw really did hurt – perhaps provoking emotional reactions wasn't the wisest action. Maybe the Giidas people were emotionally stunted for a good reason.
Astra catches the saber, twirling the cylinder around her fingers, enjoying the feel of the cool, smooth metal. She can't stop the small contented smile from blooming on her face – with a saber in her hand, she felt powerful.
"Do you have the wrist weights on?"
Astra flexes her wrists, rolling the joint. "Yeah. I think I should add more weight tomorrow – I'm barely feeling these anymore."
Ja'asper nods and flicks on his saber, pure blue light cast on his face. "Remind me tomorrow. You can move up in the weight class if you manage to hit me today."
Astra smirks, confidence translating through her body language as she takes on the correct stance; her own training saber projected green light. She didn't wait for Ja'asper to give the go-ahead before she throws her body into her first attack, which he barely manages to block. She laughs at the disgruntled expression on his face. "What's wrong, Ja'asper? Feeling threatened?"
He rolls his eyes. "Payback really is a bitch, isn't it?"
"You have no idea."
*N*O*V*A*
As each minute passed, Khai grew more frustrated – which was highly illogical given the fact that he was at least on the same planet as this t'hy'la. Much to his disbelief, his injuries from the Engineering deck had taken little over one week to heal, even with his accelerated abilities; the doctors at the starbase insisted on keeping him in the medical bay until each scar from the burns had faded flawlessly into his skin. He was delayed from seeing his Astra another week while he traveled on a star shuttle to Terra; unfortunately for him, star shuttles could not achieve a higher warp than level three. The entire trip he had spent mediating in his room and shamefully pacing the hallways; he ascertained that the other passengers were rather weary of him by the time they landed in London.
In his haste to find Astra, he did not board a hover bus, choosing instead to walk from the South London port. The Federation Academy was buzzing with activity by the time he walked on campus in civilian clothing mid-morning. Using the silver chain that connected him to Astra, he attempted to locate her – and stopped.
Busy. Occupied. Not paying attention to him.
He felt irrationally affronted and the inky black emotions that had been laying low since he left suddenly roaring to the forefront of his mind. Khai did not fight these emotions; in fact, he welcomed them, fed them, and encouraged them. Even if his t'hy'la could not feel their bond, she should have known he would come for her – an illogical thought, of course, but one that drove his steps through the crowds of cadets and into the basement of the education building.
The gym.
He never did like the scent in the gym – far too much Terran sweat and testosterone, lusty pheromones from the locker rooms, and much too dark. But he could smell her tea-and-honey scent, strong, live, thriving, right under his nose, and he followed the trail, only mildly disturbed at how primal the black emotions made him behave.
His heart clenches tightly when he sets his sights on her – fiercely beautiful, lithe, curved, womanly, intelligent and clever green eyes. His memory did not do her justice.
She'd cut her hair into a shorter style, the dark ends brushing just above her jaw, a thick fringe of blunt bangs falling into her eyes, the hair slightly longer between her brows. Her skin, pure and lily-white, was exposed; the muscles of her shoulders and arms moving fluidly beneath the smooth surface, though his eyes did detect several yellowing bruises, which he disapproved of. Clenched in her hands was a weapon that projected green light – most fascinating.
Before his mind could begin delving into the technology behind such a weapon, his eyes snap to the other person in the room.
Male.
Male. Too close to my t'hy'la.
A low warning growl builds in his chest and he stalks into the training room. "Leave, rival. She is this-one's mate."
A/N: Yep. I did a cliffhanger. It's okay, right?
Shout out to the first 10 reviews of the last chapter –
Merylin – Near death experiences work wonders for men! Lol
Koba – lol While it would have been cool to have a bat'leth knock some sense into him, I think I'll have to save that ;)
Kat327 – Thank you for reviewing! It means a lot!
Guest – Ah, already predicting Emet and Rosy, huh? Lol
Leslie E – Yeah, Colossus did contribute to Khai's tattoo-armor. I might have been watching X-Men when I was outlining his character lol
celia azul – Yes! Violence for Khai!
sango77djr – Did you dance again?
Flavia Ribeiro – A brave idiot? Lol Yes, he is!
Pumpkinmykitty – I'm sorry you bit your nails!
LunaDiSangue85 – lol I love the built-in shield, though how he got it wasn't so great, the poor man-child!
YesMyRealNameIsBella – Ohh yeah, you totally knew where I could have let the last chapter hang lol
angelari7 – Writing action can be fun!
Siobhan Whitlock – She totally is an asskicker! Lol
Nalia-R – He has to be cute to make up for the stupid lol
sujari6 – Ah, and what shall he do once he has accepted it?
Super special shout out to the first review of the last chapter – vampyregirl86 – lol I know, he just doesn't get it!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot