• • Sunset: Heroes of the Milky Way
• March 22, 2025

Sunset: Heroes of the Milky Way (Chapter 17)

Jackal of the Reynor  

Never Forget

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30 years ago, Reganorian Time

“Can you tell me anything about her?” I ask my pack leader.

I have to look up at Tybone, even when I’m sitting up straight. I’m not small, probably about average for a Lupian, but Tybone was taller than most. The auburn color of his fur did a lot to help not look so intimidating. 

The greying fur around his eyes certainly worked to undo that. He had a case of coon eyes, where the grey starts to make it look like he has a mask on. It’s hard to ignore sometimes.

“She’s the Regamorph Guardian, so it’s imperative to get her under control,” is all he tells me. His little gruff gets our… escorts looking our way. 

We’re not home, we’re in Regamorph territory, so not even another pack’s territory. They called for our help — my help — but they still look at us suspiciously.

The shuttle only has us two, our own few guards — the biggest Reynor can offer — and our own escort from the Regnorian ‘Republic’ itself. 

Usually you’d want to keep other special people — a.k.a. cops — from getting nervous by watching your language but I’m a V.I.P. so…

“No fucking shit, I hadn’t realized that keeping the walking timebomb calm was the idea.” Tybone gives me the tiredest glare as I give him a crooked smile. “I want to know how old this squirt is, does she like anything, what’s her family life,” and I look at the guards and lean close to loudly mutter, “does she even have a personality? I hear some people don’t like that.” 

Tybone just stared at me with his arms crossed as our guys tried not to grin at him. “You know I don’t know the answer to that stuff.”

I twiddle my thumbs as I add, “All this kind of stuff can be pretty important to helping her not blow me to pieces. I don’t even know her name.” 

“Ask her when you see her,” Tybone recommends, “that’ll get her to talk.”

“I could just call her ‘kid.’”

“I have yet to meet a kid who likes that,” Tybone says to get a chuckle out of our Reynar guards. They’d much rather be home with the pack, but they gotta guard me, our… crown jewel, I’ve heard that a few times. 

“I’d clean up the language before you see her, too, they’re all military families around her, probably won’t appreciate it.”    

“Please, she must be old like you then if she doesn’t curse,” I poke at him. 

He grimaces and looks in the inside pocket in his jacket to pull out a folder. He opens it up to actually read about her. 

“So you do know shit about her.”

“Shut up, I can tell you, she’s twelve years old.”

‘Only three years younger than you. Is she as immature?’ the bane of my existence asks.

Hopefully, we’ll get along just fine then, I tell him.

‘You can only hope.’ 

“I didn’t get a list of her hobbies, and her family, oh….” Tybone trails off near the end, which is not a good sign.

I stop slouching to ask, “What happened?” 

I can figure out an idea of what happened, I just hope I’m wrong.

“Her parents, they were killed in the explosion she set off in their apartment. Her lack of parents are the reason we’re needed here essentially. Her brother got sent off to the ER, and they don’t know if he’ll make it.”

Typical, these powers of our always seem to want to damn us before they want to help us. 

‘She’s an orphan too, now you have two things in common, being destructive and alone.’ 

You’re a real piece of shit you know that? Don’t answer, that was rhetorical. 

“Fuck me, do we know what set off her powers?” reall, what I want to know is should I expect an angry preteen or scared one?

He starts explaining that, “Apparently after a fight with another cadet at her military academy-” 

I interrupt him to spout out, “Jeez, they start out that young?”

‘That should ruffle some feathers.’

“Of course, what better time to spread propaganda?” Tybone jokes, reminding me that he has a dark sense of humor. “Still, it’s not like you never killed anyone at her age.”

“Having to do my job as Guardian is a little different. I’m an outlier, here kids train to be fight, it’s the norm.” 

I can hear the increased heart rates of the Regamorphs eavesdropping. 

Tybone hears them too so he gets back on subject. While looking down at the folder, he informs me, “She was to be sent on her first combat mission pretty soon. Apparently the fight with the other cadet changed that.”

“I bet she received quite the speaking to when she got home,” I quip as I cross my arms and lean back into my seat. 

Tybone shakes his head at me before continuing. “After a fight with another student at  her academy, she was sent home to be reprimanded, just as you guessed. I would assume the talk with her parents may have set her off. She caused a huge explosion with an unknown energy signature. No one knows what kind of energy it was yet.”

“Did they have Terra’rork try and talk to her yet?” I ask.

“Yes, and he was unable to get her to speak. He was with military personnel which scared her and caused another explosion. This means you’ll be going in alone.” Tybone says that with a grave tone. “You should have brought Cherie.”

“I’m not going to shoot her, Tybone. Who knows if it would even do anything.”

Tybone then does this thing where he looks at me like a child. “Playing hero role I see. You know, sometimes the hero dies in the end if he’s not smart.” 

With that he closes the folder.

“Then so be it.” 

I’d rather die than have another kid’s blood on my hands. 

Tybone growls to himself after I say that too. 

Screech!!!

The shuttle train then starts to slow near a station, where police officers in their battle gear wait for us. It’s always rubbed my hide wrong that the only difference between the police uniform and military uniform is the badge on the chest and shoulders. The padded gear screams, ‘make my day.’

“Don’t mouth off,” Tybone warns me, as if the scary guns and soldiers weren’t enough.

When the doors open, the officers line up to create a path to funnel Tybone and me to their squad leader. We walk out of the shuttle and as I pass by officers I wave at them. It’s hard not to notice that even though I am still growing, I’m already a foot taller than all of these adult Regamorphs.

When Tybone walks up to the squad leader, he almost doesn’t shake his hand. Regamorphs don’t usually do that, but we’re instilling it into their society little by little with every interaction. The squad leader ends up shaking his hand when he realizes he is supposed to do so before he can introduce himself. 

When he does introduce himself, he does so merely as, ‘team captain.’ I then quickly sense the phone in his pocket, search through all the information on it, some dirty stuff on there, and find out his real name all in the blink of an eye. When Tybone introduces me as the Lupian’s Guardian the ‘Captain,’ doesn’t offer to shake my hand. 

I tell him, “Nice to meet you, Raylude Noah’bard.” Captain Noah’bard’s face when I say his name is, to say the least, hilarious.

Noah’bard doesn’t let it get to him though. He’s quick to recompose himself and turns to the side, holding his hand out to motion us forward. “This way, there is a car waiting to take you to see our guardian.” 

It’s weird that they don’t say her name. I don’t want to know, but it’s still weird. Everyone knows my name even if I don’t want them too. I wonder if it’s a secret. When that’s a secret, you may have privacy, but then no one will know to help you.

What I also can’t miss is the large amounts of Regamorph civilians rushed to the side so we can have a straight shot to the exit. There are a lot of police officers, which means they take me, or at least my presence, seriously. 

I appreciate that, I am important.

These people, on the other hand, are weird. Everyone wears the same long sleeved, sharply collared shirts that look like jackets to me. I’ve met Regamorphs before, but they’re always military and politicians, a rich smuck or two. They have a general look, it’s boring, but they look different. These people don’t. These people look like they’re all trying to blend in with the wall dressed in all white. The only color are the black sections under the arms, where a patch might be. Even their pants have the same design. 

“I’ll never understand why they all dress the same. Don’t they want to be different?” one of our Reynor guards says to the others. 

Most of what I’ve been taught of the Regamorph society was by Terra’rork, so I know know to expect anyone who doesn’t make it into a military or science program to be delegated to what they call lower and middle class. They wear what makes assures everyone of their place in life. 

That’s not how Terra phrased it, but I read between the lines. 

But where there is something to be depressed about, there is a little bit to hope for. 

I ask Tybone, “Don’t you notice the designs though?”

“Hmm?” he mumbles with an arch of his brow.

They all have to wear the same colors and clothes, maybe that’s all they can afford, maybe that’s all stores will sell to them, but what can’t be caught on camera, or at least not well, is how many people have their own design sewn into their clothes. 

One man had this symbol sewn in black into the middle of his shirt-jacket thing. I don’t know what it is but it’s cool. A little girl has this floral design all around her arms and legs. That’s just what I can see.

“Just look at anyone for more than a second and you’ll see the work they do their clothes,” I try to telling Tybone.

He shrugs. “It’s a lot of work for what can’t be seen at a glance.”

“Maybe that’s how they get you to look.”

Police officers hold the door open for us to exit the station, and a holo-truck is waiting with its doors open in the back for us. 

For fuck’s sake, you’d think we were criminals. It’s just a small town around us, they really don’t want us to looking around, do they?

Around us lies a small town, nothing special or different from back home, albeit these use metal.

“Ugh,” I complain as I moan towards the sky. “It’s going to be so dark and boring. Like I’m being sent to a prison.”

“These vehicles are usually meant for transporting dangerous individuals,” Mr. Noah’bard informs us. 

“Great, just how I like to travel when I’m helping you people out… like a criminal.” 

Noah’bard gives me a sour look but doesn’t say anything. He leads us to the back of the holo-truck.

“You wouldn’t fit up front, so get in,” Noah’bard says sternly.

“Jeez, I was only kidding,” I joke as I hold my hands up and enter the back. 

‘I don’t think he cares about your jokes. Probably thinks they’re below him, just like yo-’

Just like I am, yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and bring me some new insults, I tell the demon.

It smells back in here, and the only light is from small slits at the edge of the top of the wall, on both sides of the vehicle.

As Tybone enters he growls at Noah’bard. “Watch your tone,” he tells the police captain. I  swear I see a chill run down Noah’bard’s spine before  the other guards join us. 

I said Tybone is tall, even by Lupian standards, which puts him at 10 feet, which is as tall as some Techanots. It also helps that he is jacked, and by jacked, I mean he looks like he takes steroids. Thank the moon for me, he doesn’t hate kids, so he isn’t that harsh really.

Tybone sits down across from me and has to lean slightly forward so he doesn’t bang his head on the ceiling. When Noah’bard slams the door, my pack leader groans, “Should have said we’ll walk. Could probably run faster than this hunk of junk.”

“I doubt it. Too many muscles in you’re too big to be that fast.” 

“Eh, probably right, but this place stinks.”

“You’re telling me,” I say as I stand up to see if I can look through the slits. I can’t.

The car starts and we slam into the back door. Obviously there isn’t much consideration for us. 

The trip starts to feel long after we slam into the wall after what has to be a trio of stop signs, or lights, whichever they have here. I don’t visit often. 

At least we haven’t turned yet, so Tybone and I never collide.

“These fuckers,” one of our guards growls.

I almost jinx us. Suddenly we turn left and when I bend forward, Tybone lifts his leg to push me back into my seat. “You stay on that side.”

I crack a sorry smile and then try to look at the small slits. We had to be going past some houses, or towns. Maybe something interesting, like a metal city. I’ve heard about those, we don’t got those back home on Luniarria. 

“I’m bored,” I complain as I sit back down.

“Tough,” Tybone snorts nonchalantly. “Try and get some sleep. I don’t know how long this trip will be.”

“How can I possibly get some sleep in here?” I’m not being sarcastic even if it sounds that way. Then I get an idea, “Want to be my pillow?”

“No,” he responds quickly and definitively. Worth a try. “Just shut your eyes and try, maybe it will happen.” 

Eh, maybe.

I try shutting my eyes to drift asleep. I can never find a comfortable spot no matter how I twist and turn. I end up doing that thing where one rests but is never fully asleep for awhile.

Eventually, we come to a full stop and I am about to slam my head on the wall as I’m laying down. Tybone quickly outstretches his arm and grabs me.

I open my eyes to being an inch from the wall. “Maybe sleeping wasn’t such a good idea,” I point out.

Tybone cracks a smile. “Yeah, who knew you’d have to risk your neck to catch a few z’s.”

He lets me go and I sit back up in time to face the back door as it opens and shows Noah’bard’s pleasantly annoyed face. “Time to move out.”

I look behind him and see that we’re in this dark underground parking lot. I want to see the city. I move to peer my head out the back and look around, only to find a sort of hell made of cement. 

This is the underground parking for a building, so plain and boring. It’s so dark down here, I can’t even see the shine of the metal. Who would want to leave their car down here?

I sigh as I continue out of the vehicle. Then I look around the front side of the truck as Tybone exits. I see a group of armed soldiers — er, I mean police officers set up with camera equipment, riot weapons, and everything else one needs when waiting to capture a twelve year old.

I turn back to Noah’bard and Tybone as they come up behind me. “Is the plan still for me to go in alone?” I ask them. “‘Cause it don’t look like it.”

“We’re all here in case you fail,” the police captain says definitively. Not a lot of faith.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing, my captain.” 

He simply walks past me, unamused.

You’d think at least one person would be a jokester here.

Noah’bard suddenly starts explaining, “This way, you’ll take the elevator to the 42nd floor, and then go to apartment 117. If you can’t find the number, you can find it by which room is blown up.”

“You say that like no one is going up there with me,” I ask as I raise my eyebrow at him.

“No one is. Terra’rork couldn’t get to her because she heard the footsteps of multiple people. You need to go by yourself to have a chance,” Noah’bard reiterates as he crosses his arms.

Well, this whole day just keeps getting better and better. I wonder if I just pretend I got lost, can I wait it out? The thought seems inviting, and complete fantasy. 

I’d get caught.

“Alrighty then, let’s get started. Well? Lead the way!” Noah’bard grimaces over my enthusiasm as he starts to lead Tybone and me towards the elevator. I think I’m growing on him.

I follow him through all the police surrounding the elevator. I look up and over everyone’s heads waving to their cold or confused faces as I walk by. They all doubt me. Good.

The elevator opens up and I walk in. I turn around to then fully realize that I am doing this alone, all by myself. Tybone looks at me, and when the door starts to close he stops it with his hand.

“Jackal, look at me,” he says as he points two fingers to his eyes. “You’ll be fine, be brave, not brazen.” I arch my brow at him and he responds with, “Yes, there is a difference.” 

I flash Tybone a smile which makes him comfortable enough to let the door close. I wink at him one last time, fast enough for me to see him shake his head.

When the doors close, I look to my left and type in level forty-two, and immediately feel the elevator start moving after I hit enter.

The elevator feels fast, but maybe that’s because I have to lean over to not hit the ceiling. My point of balance is different from this elevator’s usual occupants. In a minute the elevator reaches the 42nd floor from the basement parking lot. 

I peer my head out, and look back and forth. The left side of the hall is dark and relatively untouched beside for the remnants of what looks like an evacuation. The right side though… well, I know where I have to go at least. A whole wall is blasted open, connected to what is probably apartment 117 to the hallway. I exit the elevator and begin walking to enter through there. 

There are wires and plaster from the wall hanging down and scattered all over the place. As I come up on the opening in the wall I turn left, and look into apartment 117. At first glance, I can easily figure out how the blast happened, in terms of trajectory.

I duck my headto get in, and take a sniff of the place. I smell some kind of residue that I don’t recognize, immediately. 

In the kitchen, the floor tiles are blasted away in this outward and expanding blast, revealing the metal support underneath. The kitchen itself — the cabinets and all the appliances — seem unharmed if not cluttered by a gust of wind. 

This tells me that the kid blasted outwards, probably from one point in front of the kitchen, everything is blasted away, the furniture, pictures, what is probably a television set, all towards the window, or what’s left of it. 

There is a giant hole in the wall that leads right to a view of a city. I start walking to take a look, to see if anything is hanging alongside.

“Who’s there?” I hear a soft and trembling voice call.

I turn around, as the noise came from a bedroom on the right side of the wall. I think that’s where she is. “I’m Jackal, I’m a Guardian like you.”

“Go away!” she screams back. 

“I want to help you though. That’s all I want, is to help you, I promise.” I then start to hear her sobbing as I inch closer and closer to the door, very slowly. I ask her, “Are you okay, are you hurt?” 

“No….” 

I reach the door and rest my hand on the door knob. “Can I come in?”

“No!” she answer.

“I won’t hurt you.”

“You can’t, I don’t want to hurt you,” she tells me.

“Don’t worry, I’m a Lupian, we’re pretty tough.” I try to sound upbeat, I wonder if my nerves are coming through. “Can I please come in now?” I don’t get a response. “Pretty please?”

After a few more seconds, I hear a quiet, “Okay…”

I turn the knob slowly, and open the door the same way. The room is dark, and smells of this weird residue. The door gets blocked by something, and won’t move without a struggle. I try to slide in through what I’ve opened already, making a crunching noise with each step. As I get in, I see this green-blue smoke, or gas, emitting from points in the wall. Like residue from a blast. 

When I look around I don’t see her, I only see more of a pitch black room, and a set of glowing eyes emitting this green-blue glow. Then I notice two bigger balls, swirling around with the same color. 

I finish slipping through the door and reach around to find this desk toppled over. I pick it up in one arm and move it to then be able to open the door the rest of the way. I let the light flood in to reveal a room torn apart. 

Thank the moon I wore boots because I would have stepped on glass and who knows what else. There are picture frames broken on the floor, a bed toppled on its side in the middle of the room, and dressers shattered. Then in the dreary and scorched corner, sits this Regamorph girl, hands and eyes pulsing with energy. The tears dripping down her face are two different colors; her right eye flows green and her right eye blue, and uh, yeah, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say this is not normal.

“I can’t control it,” she cries. Suddenly I sense impending danger. I see her eyes start to get brighter, and pulsate that strange energy. “I’m sorry!” she screams. 

I turn around and jump behind the bed on the floor in time for it to bear the brunt of the powerful pulse that emits through the room. The bed still flies into me though, and we collide with the wall, causing a loud bang.

“Damn, okay, that hurt,” I groan as I rub my head. Crap, I just said that she wouldn’t hurt me. I quickly add, “Not the worst I’ve ever felt though.”

“Are you okay?” I hear her ask sheeply.

“I’m dandy,” I tell her. I push the bed away from me to get onto my knees and then my feet. I feel myself bleeding into my fur, and look at my left arm. There is a small slice, but nothing major, probably from glass.

“You’re bleeding, red,” the girl says as if she’s confused, “why is it red?”

“We bleed different colors. All the different races bleed based on what they breath, or don’t breath. Didn’t know that?” I turn back to look at her and she shakes her head slightly. I think about going to sit down next to her, but for the sake of living I ask, “Are your powers going to go off soon?”

“I don’t think so.” 

“How do you tell?”

“I-I get feel this pressure get-getting into me, and then eventually it gets its way out. It hurts. I fe-feel-”

“Congested? But like, all over?” I interrupt. I know this feeling. I got it in my head before I could control my power. Sometimes it stil doesl, but she is feeling it all over. What is her power?

“Yeah, does it happen to you?” 

“Used to, not so much anymore. I’m going to help you by telling you how I controlled it.” Her face starts to brighten up. She isn’t going to smile, but her face becomes less tense and constricted. “But first, what’s your name?” 

She cocks her head at this question.

“You really aren’t with them,” she says.

“The police? They asked for my help, but no, I’m not with them.” 

“The police, they know everything about me, and my family. It’s scary sometimes.” As she speaks she wraps her hands around her legs as her hands aren’t glowing with that blue-green energy anymore. I move to sit down next to her, and I wrap my right arm around her. She looks up at me, unsure, but then leans into my side. “Alloya, my name is Alloya.” 

“Don’t have a nickname?” I ask.

“Not anymore. Just from my mom.”

“They’re gone now?” I finish for her. She nods her head against me. I hold my hand out for her, and introduce myself officially, “I’m Jackal. I don’t have a nickname either, for the same reason. Nice to meet ya.” \

Alloya looks curiously at my hand, which is probably humongous to her, and then lifts her right hand to wrap around my fingers and shake them. 

“So now Alloya, do you want to know how to get the congested feeling to stop? After you get it right, the power should only come to you when you want.”

“I’ll never want it,” she says, but that will change. Power changes you once you can use it for yourself.

“My bad, for when you’ll need it.” She picks up her head to look at me. I hold her gaze and reaffirm, “You’ll need it.”

She may not understand ‘want’ but she understood ‘need.’

“Okay, how do I do it?” Alloya asks. 

I warn her, “I’m telling you now, it’ll probably hurt. Not from anything physical, but the kind you’re still reeling from I bet.”

“Eeehhh,” she lets out as a cry. 

“Close your eyes,” I tell her. I close mine to. I believe it might work better if I do it at the same time. “Imagine, a moment, when you were free, loose as can be. Nothing could have hurt you,” I continue.

“I can’t!” Alloya cries. She wraps her arms around me. Then I start to feel my sides get hotter, and from that I can assume that her powers are going to act up. “I don’t want to think about something like that! I can’t that, I killed them!”

“You have to! Or else it’s just going to keep happening.”

She looks back up at me, her irises glowing. “I just want to forget, teach me that! I want to forget about them!”

“No!” I tell her sternly. “You hurt them, but that was an accident. They don’t blame you, no one worth it will blame you, but if you forget them, that’s the worst thing you can do.”

“But-” 

“No buts. If you hate the ones who you lost, if you want them to truly suffer, then forget them, but that’s what scumbags do to the people they love. You need to care, you need to remember, because that’s what they deserve. Don’t forget, I don’t think they would forget you. 

“Close, your eyes. Keep them shut, and think of the time you were happy, free, everything the opposite of congested.”

I watch her shut her eyes, and I shut mine too. I start to think of my mother.

“Concentrate a little, figure out the finer edges,” I explain to Alloya.

I remember walking through her autoshop for holo-vehicles. I remember the sparks of the buzzsaw trying to break down scrap. I remember her holding it against a sheet of iron, and my mother placing her hand over mine to keep the buzzsaw from pushing back.

“Now let go. Don’t stress, don’t overthink. Just live in that moment, one more time,” I instruct Alloya with my eyes closed.

My mother pushes forward on my hand as she comes up behind me. I’m still a small pup as she rests her chin on my head and wraps her arms around me. We cut the sheet of metal together. Protective masks were all we wore though. We weren’t much of a family for safety.

“Think about how you felt, and how nothing weighed you down.” I feel tears start to drip down into my hands.

I couldn’t see her face, but I could see her eyes. I couldn’t see her face, but I could see she was happy. I couldn’t see my mother’s face, but I knew she loved being with me, all by her eyes.

Then Alloya wraps her arms around me, and starts crying into my chest. I open my eyes and let the memory fade away. 

“Did it work?” I ask Alloya. I watch her as she nods her head against my shirt. “Good.” Then I wrap my arms around her. “Let’s get out of this room.” 

She isn’t that short honestly. She reaches up to my pecs. I’m able to keep an arm around her as we walk out of this room, which is probably Alloya’s. She keeps her arms hugged to me as we walk back into the kitchen. Alloya stops to stare at the scene.

“Don’t forget, remember, that’s what we’re supposed to do,” I remind her with my arm around her shoulder. 

Alloya nods her head, and then I notice the hole in the wall that shows the city skyline at a dark dusk. I lead us over there and motion for her to sit. We put our legs over the side, which probably isn’t a safe idea, but who cares at this point. 

As we look at the city, I admit, “I’ve never been able to see what a Regamorph city looks like.”

“Salon is a pretty city,” Alloya says.

I can’t disagree with that. The city is full of skyscrapers, but most are all two-thirds the height of the one we’re in. They all generally have this concave design where in the middle of the buildings they’re wider, with a skinny peak, but a still large base. They are pretty, but the city completely lacks any vegetation or color. The appeal fades away so fast. 

“Are Lupian cities pretty to look at?” Alloya ask.

“They’re hard to see, honestly, they’re in these big trees, or their in roaming holo-cars, and there’s never this many people. We don’t have buildings this high, and we have a lot more green, more colors.”

“Hmm, Jackal?” 

“Yes, Alloya?” I ask her.

She asks me, “What happens now?” 

Where do two orphans go now? I go back home probably, but I don’t want to do that. Alloya will be assigned a new home, and made to practice control with Terra’rork, and then fight as a soldier. I guess that’s what we do next, but that sounds… downright terrible.

“I don’t know. We get better, stronger, then we do something important,” then I look her in the eye, “or we do something cool. All I know is this, we’re going to do good if we do something together.”

I think I see a smile twitch on her face.