• • Sunset: Heroes of the Milky Way
• August 23, 2025

Sunset: Heroes of the Milky Way (Chapter 23)

Aleti Ra’non

Taken

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Why is it that everyone wants to train in the morning? What is the purpose? What is the plus side to getting up and training, at seven o’clock in the morning? Why not at midnight when I’m not tired?

To be a jerk, that’s why.

My mom thinks I need to learn to fight, and that the best way to do that is by fighting, training with the new guy, Rom. How does fighting help you learn without learning any basics? That doesn’t make any sense! 

Admittedly, I do need to learn how to fight, but that can happen at two o’clock in the afternoon. 

I don’t even know how I got dressed this morning. Mom left out a sleeveless muscle shirt and shorts to wear to the practice. That makes sense for jogging, or the gym, shouldn’t I be wearing pads for sparring? Protective gear or something? A helmet?
I finish my short trip to the back of the Rango, where the ramp is already down. I walk outside onto the rough, dry bedrock, then turn my head to the right to take a gander at the Shatter Drive. After what happened in the town, this seemed like a good place to hide where someone can’t sneak up on us without us seeing them.

I look around for where Mom said she would be with Rom, but I can’t find them.

“Over here!” I hear this voice call out from far away. I scan around me once more, and then I see Mom waving at me to come over. I hear more calls but I can’t discern them. 

As I walk towards them, she waves faster. If she thinks I’m running she better think again. 

Then when I’m away from the Rango, I see her raise her hand up above her, then it turns blue-green.

Oh shit.

She blasts a ball of energy up and over towards me and it is aimed right behind me. It won’t hit and kill me, but it’ll send me flying. 

“I hate you!” I scream as I sprint towards them full speed, as my jerk of a mother continuously rains blasts of blue-green energy balls over my head! 

BOOM!

My black hair whips all around, in whichever direction the explosions come from. Eventually, I feel a numbness in my feet, but I have to keep pushing on.

KA-DOOM!

I am going to tackle Alloya A’Dunk Ra’non the first as soon as I get to her!

PLOOM!

“Aaah!” I scream as I wrap my arms around my head. That last one was really close! Is she just flinging them or purposely making near-misses? 

Eventually, the blasts stop, and I unwrap my arms to I look around me. For sure, they are all gone. That means I’m close enough that Alloya and Rom would feel the impact. When I look up, I see my mother, this bitch.

I see her, clear as day, laughing with her eyes closed. I’m determined now. I push myself to keep barreling towards her. I make eye contact with Rom, and I can tell he’s contemplating telling Mom to look out. I shake my head at him and probably give him the most menacing glare that he backs out, and I keep pushing forward. 

The distance between us is closing, one yard between us. Time seems to slow in this moment, as each step alerts Mom to my presence. She hears one, and starts to look up. I take another, and I’m one step away from being arms-distance from her. 

Her head is up high enough to see my feet, and I see her eyes blinking. I take the next step and jump, reaching my arms out to get her right in her gut. Mom’s head is up, and she’s still smiling, but the face muscles loosen when we make eye contact, when it is too late and she’s mine.

“You jerk!” I yell. When we collide my shoulder goes right into her gut, with me wrapping my arms around her, feeling her buckle backwards and fly with my momentum.

“Ugh!” is the sound Mom makes as she feel the full force that is my fury take her to the ground. 

Then we fall. She goes flat onto her back, and I roll over her onto the ground. This ground isn’t that hard or rough though. I didn’t even notice before, but they had brought out blue mats to practice on.

I hear Mom wheezing and coughing to take back her breath. I roll over onto my stomach to stare at her menacingly. She turns onto her stomach and stares me back in the eye as she tries to recollect herself. Because of the wheezing I can’t make out what she’s thinking, if she’s even mad.

Then she stops wheezing, coughs one more time into her fist, looks up, and asks, “How was your run?” 

Her grin is rage inducing.

I narrow my eyes at her, and promise that, “I’m gonna punch you so hard your future kids will be born bruised.”

Mom chuckles and replies, “That’s okay, there are no plans for more brats like you.” 

Then she rolls over onto her back, and reaches her hand out to Rom to help her back up. I get to my feet on my own.

“You’re a grade-A jerk, you know,” I tell her.

“I know,” she says, “I tried to get you to at least jog, but you weren’t getting it.”

“Why are we all the way over here anyway?! At seven in the morning!”

Mom taunts me again, “Boo hoo, you didn’t sleep in. The morning is when most people do their physical exercise. The long walk, or run for you, was a little warm up.”

I grind my teeth and take a deep breath. She’s purposely trying to get under my skin, it’s a test, Aleti, it’s all a test. This is why you should sleep earlier. “How long have you two been out here anyway?” While pointing to Rom I ask, “Shouldn’t he be using the Tutor?”

“He woke up at four to use to the Tutor and finished for the morning. Terra will quiz him later, and he’ll wear it again in the afternoon and later tonight. He can’t use it too much, it isn’t safe for that. In the meantime I’ve been his sparring partner.”

Hmm, there’s a convenient part of her explanation that’s missing. “I’m sorry, I missed the part that explains why I’m here.”

“I figured Rom would need a break, and what else to keep the blood flowing better than fighting you?”

I see, apparently I’m so bad at fighting that Rom could beat me even when he is exhausted. I’ll see about that. “Oh, you think it would be easy for him?”

“Without a doubt.”

My lip went as high on my chin as it could. “Think I’m such a poor fighter? I’ll show you.”

“Please do.” 

Her taunting is beginning to drive me nuts… which means it’s working.

I stare at Rom, who admittedly asked for none of this, with rage and fury. I walk away from my mother farther out onto the blue mats. Rom reluctantly follows. 

I throw up my hands, ready to fight, which causes Mom to giggle for some reason. Rom’s face expresses that he wants no part of this.

“Well?” I ask him. “Aren’t you going to get ready?”

Rom tries to offer, “Look, lets just go easy—”

“No,” I interrupt. I am perfectly capable of holding my own against a severely exhausted opponent.

“Uhh,” Rom sighs. Then he gets into his own fighting stance. “Let’s start.”

I wait for him to come at me. Throwing the first punch will not work well when someone has more experience. He quickly takes two steps forward. When he tries to throw a punch I’ll grab hold and—

He pushes me with one palm strike to my arms. “Whoa!” I yell as I’m knocked onto my ass. I fall right on my butt, looking up at Rom with a fine line for a mouth, and eyes that won’t match mine.

I try to ask, “How did you—?”

“Easy,” he interrupts. “For one thing, your stance is piss poor. Your legs… it’s like knocking down a child. Your left foot is almost directly in front of your right, which means your foundation is practically non-existent.” Little cold. “Then your arms, don’t put them in front of your face, how are you supposed to see how close I am too you?” Little harsh. “And worst of all, you spent all your time thinking, never doing.” That is, true, now that I think about it. “I mean, I’m sure you saw a little bit of me coming, but you spent so much time thinking about what you want to do, that you don’t have the chance to do it. You need to spend a lot of time practicing the basics, and then you won’t have to think, it’ll come naturally.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I remind him. I look away, quite embarrassed with myself.

Then he reaches a hand down for me. “It won’t take as long as you think,” he assures me. 

I look up at him, and he is giving me a kind smile. I reach up and take his hand, allowing him to pull me up. As he does this, I ask more nicely, “Are you sure?”

Rom puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me. “Positive.”

I get back into a stance, and try to correct myself. My feet stand wide apart, and my arms down at my sides. I ask him, “Ready to try again?”

He chuckles at me, “Maybe let’s just teach you the basics first.” Then he moves behind me and tries to kick my feet closer together, I guess they were too wide apart. “Besides, this will give me a chance to rest.” 

Then he grabs my arms lightly from behind to position my left in front, with my elbow out and leading with my non-dominant leg and fist.

I look at Mom, and she is holding a hand in front of her lips, which are currently smirking. I narrow my eyes to glare at her since I know Rom will not see.

Still, Mom arches an eyebrow at me. My face laxes, not having the energy to give her the proper attitude she’s asking for. Still…

Rom is a far better teacher than her.

Alloya Ra’non

I let the two kids practice on their own for a few to go talk to Terra, and hopefully the Reeky-tite’s, if they’re awake.

‘I love how you call them kids when you use to sleep with a boy the same age,’ Rega points out. I ignore it as I will soon be free of her talking.

I make my way back up the Rango’s ramp, and I enter through the hangar door. I walk through the hallway past everyone’s rooms, where I start my usual countdown with Clay’s room. I stop at the door. Now I realize that when you countdown, you don’t stop at the first number, but…

“Computer…” I whisper. 

‘Yes Captain?’ the ship responds at its natural pitch. 

“Shush,” I shush it. “Quiet, is Clay in there?”

Now in a whispery voice, which is still pretty loud, ‘Yes, Captain, he appears to be laying down, but is definitely awake. Would you like me to open the door?’

What am I doing? No, I know exactly what I’m doing. 

“No, let him rest,” I tell the Rango. I’m giving him space, despite how much I may want to intrude it.

I continue my countdown of Womby’s room, Hideo’s, Terra’s, and Jackal’s/Aleti’s. I know she still has not had the chance to add anything besides her clothes into the drawers. I appreciate that even if it is not done on purpose. I should talk to Terra about getting an expansion for the ship, if that is even possible.

The trip to the bridge of the Rango is a long walk some days, and some days not. I do not want to know how long today is, so instead I check for everyone in the lounge. I’m lucky.

Terra and Torun are up and about. Terra is what I can assume to be running diagnostics on the ship from his seat, and Torun is making himself breakfast in the kitchen visible from the lounge. I jump over the couch, then get comfortable enough that my body believes that it will never have to get up.

“Good morning. You two are up early,” I greet them.

Terra throws down the holographic monitor and nods his head with a smile. “I’ve always been an early bird. I don’t need as much sleep.” Then he smirks. “But your kid does though. I saw her on the way out. How did she enjoy morning training?”

“Let’s say I got her running. She didn’t like it at first, but once she and Rom started and she got her ass kicked she grew… determined.” 

He smiles and shakes his head before commenting, “Like daughter like mother.”

I turn to Torun, “What about you, Mr. Reeky-tite?” 

Torun is flipping pans with something in them and whatnot. He tells me, “I used to get up this early to go to work, mining for minerals was for the early birds. Pekipsea could probably tell you what they’re for better than I can. Anyway, the missus is not used to getting up, and is promptly sleeping until noon so don’t expect her.” Then he chuckles to himself right before he comments, “I still can’t believe you have a kid! Last time I saw you, you looked like your daughter, different color hair though. Thought the kid was Terra’s intern or something when I first saw her.”

It must be strange to him. A few weeks ago I was a couple years older than his son. Now I am a few years younger than him. 

“Listen, I want to tell you two what happened before Pekipsea wakes up. I don’t want her to have to listen to the story again.” I feel terrible for him, having to drudge up the past, but I am relieved that I was not the one to bring it up.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Terra tells him. “Do you want to sit?”

Torun puts his food on a plate, and walks over to take a seat next to me. “I hope you don’t mind but I like to eat when I’m stressed. This story makes me stressed out.”

“Completely understandable,” I assure him, “start from the beginning when you’re ready.”

Torun asks, “Who’s ready for this?”

Wombinal Reeky-tite – Three Weeks Earlier – Rivertan Time 

It has been a couple months since I was last at home. I was able to walk through town, greet everyone that I had missed, but it felt hallow. It wasn’t like I was returning a conquering hero, I was basically laid off with a bunch of my friends, or whatever they call forced retirement. My neighbor brought me up to speed on how they found more aluminum under the old school I learned at. Now apparently kids learn at a… different school. 

But now that I’m at the front door of the home I grew up in I don’t have it in me to open it. I have to explain why I’m home, and why it’s for good. How I wasn’t able to do anything to help my friends, how we failed to save the world, essentially. 

My friend is dead. Am I still going to be the proud son to my parents after I tell them how badly I failed?

My hand is raised to knock on the door, but I can’t follow through. I’m just frozen there.

Then the door suddenly swings open, and there’s my mother.

“Womby? Womby!” she yells as she quickly embraces me in her arms. “My boy is home,” she whispers into my ear. 

I don’t respond, because I don’t have much else to say. I simply wrap my own arms around her, and squeeze tight.

Eventually, she hurries me inside.

As it turns out, everything that happened with the Dion has been widely reported. I don’t have to go into detail about what happened, but they do not know the part I played.

Nothing.

My dad puts his hand on my shoulder before sitting down in his chair, and stresses to me that, “When you’re ready, you can talk. We can just catch up for now.” 

I really appreciate him and my mom not pressing. My mom is happy just to see me home, but clearly doesn’t know what to do about it. She hasn’t sat down since I’ve walked it, finding something to fidget with before deciding to rummage through the kitchen of our small home, hoping to find something special to make for my return. 

It’s funny that she does this considering she can’t cook to save her life and dad will end up whipping together something. Still, maybe she will attempt to bake… I do like her cookies.

While I am thinking to myself, my father asks me, “Did you hear about all these campers secretly hiding under the Romulic? I don’t know how the peons in their big super subs didn’t see that.”

“Campers?” I ask. “What are you talking about? I don’t know what you mean.”

“The Waverites? The ones trying to steal our minerals or some kind of rock? Not really sure what it was, just that they’re there and they’re taking something.” 

Sometimes I wonder if it’s just him being ignorant, or if he’s unable to retain information like I can. There’s a lot of stuff I got used to on Rango that’s not going to fly now. 

“I can already picture being called a ‘camper’ being like calling us ‘underbellies.’” 

My mom interrupts to yell, “You know I don’t like that word!”

My dad chuckles at that, then leans over to whisper to me, “Of course she wouldn’t.”

I missed this in a way, when they were… showing their age.

My dad returns to the earlier topic of conversation, “There’s a difference between calling them campers, and calling us,” and with an eye-roll in his wife’s direction, “ the U-word, they did something to wrong us. You and me, son, we get shit for where we’re born. We didn’t do anything.”

“Some would point out that we did lose the Ruleden Tourney.”

“That was my father’s generation, your grandfather’s. Not our fault, that whole thing is stupid anyway.”

“I mean, I guess… but it doesn’t seem like they’re hurting anybody, it’s not like we knew.” Compared the people uptop, the Waverites never took anybody’s homes, never diminished their wages, or gave them the leftovers they didn’t want. They just mined what nobody knew was there.”

My dad aged several years as he side-eyed me. “If you think no one was hurt because we didn’t hear about it, you didn’t learn much when you were off with your friends.”

I’m sure everyone knows what its like to hear your parent say something wise, sensicable, revelatory, but in such a condescending way that you can’t quite let yourself agree with it. This goddamn bastard. 

What’s worse, is that his good point, makes me feel less sure of my good point, and I can hear as I speak. “But still, MineralCo has been doing this for decades, there’s people here that aren’t here by choice. Aren’t you insulting them for how they were born because of their ancestors mistakes?”

“Exactly what I’ve been saying Womby!” my mom screeches in agreement, which was the best support one could have when arguing with your dad. 

Then she walks out of the kitchen towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” my dad asks her.

“To try and haggle with Ednora to see if she finally has any sea-nupples I can use for a pie,” she answers.

My dad reminds her, “You know she hasn’t been able to steal any of those in months!”

“Well, maybe today’s my lucky day! If not I’ll get something else,” she figures. Then she runs back and kisses me on the cheek before trying to leave.

“What about me?” my dad whines. 

“Maybe when your more friendly and less ornery.”

“I’m more likeable than most busters in this town!” 

“Ain’t that a shame. Goodbye my boys!” she raves as she goes out.

When she leaves I tell my dad, “So I see things are going well.”

“Yeah, thanks for ruining it for me. Now I have to compete for her attention,” he jokes with a smirk. Then more seriously he asks me, “Now that she’s gone, how are you really doing, son?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything. Your friends, I find it hard to believe yall ain’t family after all these years.”

He’s not wrong. Terra, Alloya, Jackal, Hideo, and even Clay — just barely — we were all the other had for the most part. Sure, Terra and Hideo had family back home to call, but there were few visits home on account of the team being made of childless orphans and only-childs. 

Even still, there are only five…. four people in the whole galaxy that can understand what I went through growing up. Now that I think about it, being away from them should feel… cramped…

“Yeah, I’d be lying if I say the thought of never seeing any of them doesn’t eat me up inside, but honestly… I don’t think it will be forever. I think Alloya will do something right, or someone else will do something bad enough that we’ll be baack.

“I don’t truly think this is the end. Stuff needs doing, and we’re… the best to do it?”

My dad chuckles. “Are you asking or telling?”

“We are the best to do it.”

“Well there we go, let’s just hope that’s sooner rather than later for your sake,” he says, before thinking twice, “not that I want anything go wrong or nothin’! You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

My dad rests back in his chair, and it seems clear to me that I wasn’t the one being comforted.

“Well now that you’re not with them, how is Tortugan treating you?”

“Hmm?”

“Tortugan. My grandfather told me of how much that demon annoyed him.” 

Oh, oh no.

My dad’s still talking though, “He was always trying to be his friend apparently, and then threatening him at the drop of a hat. Offering him power so he could take hold. Don’t trust him.” 

The way he describes Tortugan is nothing like how the demon treats me, but that’s not the important part.

That’s what I’ve been missing. 

“No wait, dad… Tortugan. He hasn’t said a word to me since I got back. As soon as I separate from another Guardian he annoys me, trying to get in my head.” 

To say it’s strange that he hasn’t said anything to me is an understatement. I haven’t been alone in my head… ever if another Guardian wasn’t around.

“Well, isn’t that a good thing?” my dad offers with a hint of a smile. “Maybe he finally realized that he ain’t ever going to be free, so he finally shut up.”

I fucking wish.

“That can’t be it,” I tell him. “I would still feel him in the back of my head. It’s like the space he originally took up, is now taken by my own thoughts. What happened to him?”

“Womby,” he mutters as puts his hands up, “you didn’t, by chance, give any girl, uh, you know, your seaweed?”

For fuck’s sake.

“No dad, not a chance that Tortugan left because I have a kid,” I assure him.

“Oh, here I was hoping you were making headway on grandkids,” he grumbles with disappointment.

“Yeah, I know,” I groan, but seriously, it can’t be that I have a kid. The Guardians, unless there’s a death, we only are replaced in the same order. Like, my great grandfather was the last Guardian of the Rivertans. Terra’s great grandfather was the last Guardian for the Techanots. Neither of Terra’s kids are the next Guardian so we can put that idea to rest.

Even though the species don’t all live the same amount of time, the Guardians will live longer, and sometimes so will their offspring so we all stay lined up.

BANG! BANG! 

Some noise came from the door. 

“What was that?” my dad asks.

Then it comes again. BANG! BANG!

I hold my hand up for my father to stay seated. “Wait here, let me check,” I tell him.

I get up from my seat to start walking from the door. Then it blasts open suddenly with armed soldiers breaching. 

In the same second that the door blasts across the room between my father and me, the front man takes a shot off with this blaster that splashes green and blue, an energy I’ve seen before.
I don’t let it hit me.

I turn my chest into water and expand so the shot goes through, and into the wall. Sorry, mom.

He goes to shoot me again, along with some others who breach behind him.

He gets a shot off as I turn my arm into ice and thrust for his chest. 

Psssh.

Sure, he incinerates my head, but I’m already water, it just turns to steam, but his chest?

Sikkt!

It stabs through his chest and that of another behind him. Others dodge roll out of the way just barely.

I can’t pull my arm back as quickly as I would like, I just get this ick as their blood mixes into my water. It never really bothers me I solidify with someone else’s blood in me, my immune system is pretty good if I do say so myself… but it still disgusting, and it physically feels sluggish.

More soldiers rush the room, going after me then my father. They continue to shoot me, but my other hand is a water whip that already shoots forth across the room. The tip transforms into a high-pressure spear point by vibrating and boiling, and skewers the closest soldier to me through the head. 

My dad screams, “Womby!”

The damage I take doesn’t slow me down much, I haven’t loss enough water mass for that, and continues to skewer through the face of the next soldier firing at me. 

Then I hear one soldier yells, “Stop! Or I’ll kill him!” I turn my head to see one soldier holding a gun to my father’s head. My whip arm freezes, as in momentum, and waits. “Pull back your,” he tries to command but hesitates, “arm.” 

My arm begins to recede when he orders, “Slowly!” 

I slowly pull my whip arm back to my body. 

My chest, arms, and legs are dripping to the ground with water and blood that’s not mine. The one other soldier still alive moves next to the one aiming a gun at my father. He mutters, “This underbelly freak really is made out of water…”

I ask him, “What? Didn’t believe the memo?” 

He growls, but then we hear footsteps coming in. 

Then this well dressed, older Riverti man comes walking in like he owns the place. 

Apparently, my dad was thinking the same thing before he rants, “You, the one walking like you own the damn place. Who do you think you — Aaah!!” The soldier hit my father in the back of the head halfway through his yelling. 

In a fit of rage I start to stand up but the soldier threatens me, “Watch it freak. I’ll blow his damn brains out.” I stand where I am. Then he notices my wounds closing up, leaking some water. “What? Do you bleed water too?”

The Riverti man holds up his hand calmly to silence the soldier. Then in a calm, and arrogant demeanor he elaborates, “I’m walking in like I, ‘own the place,’ because I do. Don’t you remember me, Wombinal?”

I focus on his face, and it startles me that I didn’t first recognize him. He’s the Prime Minister, I think his name is Lamberine. I tell him, “I would apologize for forgetting your face for a moment Prime Minister—”

He interrupts me, “No need my boy.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” I respond coldly. “I would apologize, but you’re an asshole who shut up my house.”

He looks at as if I’m the child for being mad about the property damage. 

“Are you done?” he asks. 

I open my mouth, but he speaks anyway. 

“No, good, let’s cut to the chase, I have a busy schedule and this is already running longer than I’d like. You can come quietly, and do as I say, or I can kill your father, and if you don’t like him, I can have your mother killed too. I’m sure in your busy travels you figured out how these things usually go.”

My father speaks up after hearing that. “He’s not going to do anything for you! Nothing!” Then he looks me in the eye and demands of me, “You hear me son? You don’t do anything this guy says! Not even if — ACK!” 

The soldier hits him again.

“Shut up!” the soldier commands.

My father ignores him, and in a injured pant, continues. “Womby, no matter what they threaten to do with me, you don’t do anything for them. I’m just an old man, he’ll do worse with your power than any good I could do.”

As if that was any reason to let him die. It’s always aggravating when an old man tries to die a hero and does it pretty well.

Lamberine rolls his eyes and brings up his arm. 

“What are you doing?” I demand to know.

He pushes some buttons on his watch, and a hologram pops up. 

“What the…” I mutter. “Since when do we have holograms in watches?” 

Then I look at the watch more closely, and it reminds me of one I’ve seen before, I just can’t place my finger on it.

“Look closely, Wombinal.” 

I stare at the hologram closely as it begins forming an image. It’s two dimensional, but I think my father can see it fine from where he’s at.

Then the image becomes crystal clear. 

“Surely, you’re father will change his mind on the whole… ‘never surrender’ mentality. I think you’ll both agree that Wombinal coming with me is the best choice of action.”

The holographic image is of the crosshair view of a sniper on my mother as she shops at Ednora’s stand.

“What do you think Torun?” Lamberine questions my father. “Still think he shouldn’t come with me?”

My dad turns and looks at me with sorry eyes before dipping his head. I know what he wants me to do.

I look away from him and to Lamberine. “What do you want from me?” I ask him.

The Prime Minister chuckles and snaps his fingers at one of his soldiers. They pull out these weird looking handcuffs, and starts walking to me.

When we’re face to face, I get a good look at his infuriating smile. He never thought there was chance of losing I bet. Then he holds out the cuffs. 

“These are already dampening the connection between you and the demon. When on, they’ll take away your powers over water, at least until you’re completely mine.” He must have been watching me the whole time. “Well? Hold out your hands for the man, I won’t repeat myself.”

I hold out my forearms, and the politician’s dog slaps on the cuffs. 

It’s effect is almost immediate, in fact, I feel drained, but I do my best not to show it. 

Lamberine moves beside me and puts an arm around my back. Then he moves me forward towards the door. “We’re going to do great things young Wombinal,” he tells me. Then when we walk past my father on the ground he tells him, “Start packing your things, you and your wife are going to live on the surface where we can keep a watch on you for a little while. This place is too unsanitary for me and my people. Certainly not becoming of the Rivertan’s Guardian. Don’t you think?” 

Alloya Ra’non

“Don’t tell my wife this,” Torun pleads to us. He rubs his head in grief thinking about how, “She would never forgive herself if she knew she was the reason Womby gave himself up.”

“We promise,” Terra assures him.

I lean forward, my elbows resting on the top of my thighs and resting my chin on my gripped hands. 

“Are you alright, Captain?” Terra asks me.

Am I alright? 

Wherever we go there’s some piece of shit politician who thinks no one is ever going to clock his head off, and I for one am sick of it.

I honestly tell Terra, “I think the longer I stay on this planet, the more I can’t stand it.” 

“This doesn’t make much sense. I’m sure Womby would know that his parents left with us. As soon as we got here, he should have known that Lamberine couldn’t keep you from us. They didn’t even guard you.”

Torun makes a suspicious face as he points his hand to his chin. “Actually, there were guards keeping Pekipsea and me in the house for the first few days, then they left and never checked up on us, as far as I know.” 

“Did they leave because we showed up?” I ask him. 

“I don’t think so,” he replies. “We’ve been off on our own for a few days before you guys even showed up here the first time, or really Pekipsea has.”

“If he felt that he didn’t have to watch over the Reeky-tites, that’s because they weren’t necessary.” I put forth the question, “Why would that be?”

“This puts further evidence behind the idea that Womby’s under some kind of control. I think maybe Lamberine let him be himself by the Shatter Drive to throw us off.”

“I don’t know about that. I think maybe Womby gets directives, it still seems like his personality is there, but it’s altered, as if certain things trigger emotions as if preset.”

Torun interrupts us. “I’m sorry, old geezer here, but can you put this into layman’s terms?” 

“Sorry,” Terra apologizes. “When we spoke to Womby, he was aggressive towards us until we convinced him that the Shatter Drive wouldn’t bring harm to anyone. Then he acted normally. I think maybe he’s given orders, but when something is outside those orders, he can behave normally.”

“Okay,” Torun mutters, but then still wonders, “but how would Lamberine, or anyone really, take over someone’s mind?”

“That’s one of the big questions isn’t it?” Terra admits. “Technology like that doesn’t exist.” I purse my lip when Terra says that, and he catches it. “Is that not true, Alloya?”

Eh.

“On Reganora… we have tech, and stuff… but nothing really works better than torture and some psychological programming. It’s hardly scientific, but who knows what else Lamberine’s got. He already has guns he shouldn’t have so whose to say there’s no mesmerizing device that’s improved since the last time I’ve checked.”

“Anything else we should worry about?” Terra asks with a voice of annoyance and disappointment. “Any weapons of death we should be, ya know, looking out for?”

“They took many samples of my blood. Probably to make soldiers with it. Probably superpowered soldiers, or maybe even medicine to quickly heal troops.”

“Maybe that’s how the cantorium suits are able to match up with Guardian power. Your blood most likely allowed them to figure out how our powers work and are triggered.”

I lean back against the couch, and dip my head back to look at the ceiling. This is what patriotism causes, stupidity in people who are supposed to be smart.

There is one more billion dollar question and Terra asks it. “The Regnorian Regime is almost definitely the one behind the creation of the technology, but how has it been given to the Rivertans?”

 There is only one bastard who knows the answer to that question. One bastard who has been making it his life’s mission to subjugate, manipulate, and control others. The same bastard who sincerely enjoys making me angry. “I’ll have to ask Lamberine before I crush his head in my hands.”