In Command, page 17
The footage moved to scene after scene of Aunare and halfers being hunted down and killed. One after another. City after city. Planet after planet. I let it keep playing though it was already too much, even for me. Even though I’d seen it before. Even though I’d lived it before.
The panic to run, hide, survive was beating in my veins, but I was safe.
And still, a drip of cold sweat ran down my spine. My hand shook as I reached for my glass of water on the table. I almost didn’t grab the water, but I needed it. Shaking hands wasn’t as bad as throwing up on live, intergalactic feeds.
I downed half the glass and set it back on the table. No one said a word as the footage continued to play.
Before the interview started, the room had been animated with questions and excitement and setting up for what was going to happen. Now I could only feel the horror in the room. It was a thick, suffocating blanket, and even I couldn’t take it anymore.
I tapped the disc, turning off the vid, but still, no one made a noise.
There was nothing to say.
I gestured with two fingers, and Roan threw another disc at me. I was thankful when my shaking hands caught it. “The slaughter of Aunare on SpaceTech controlled planets has been going on for years. What I just played was only the beginning. It never stopped.” That was something that the Aunare on Sel’Ani needed to understand.
I hit play with no sound again. “This is from about five years ago. It started on one of the colony planets when they found a pocket of hidden Aunare, but once others realized that there might be more hiding, the hunt for Aunare eventually spread to a few other colonies.”
This disc was eerily similar to the last—Aunare being killed in the streets, in their homes, in the places they’d been hiding, hoping no one would find them. But they did. So many were found and killed.
In some of the footage, major landmarks were visible, which told everyone in the room just how widespread the slaughter was. It was everywhere, and yet, the Aunare had done nothing.
I couldn’t watch the vid, even without sound. My stomach—my heart—couldn’t take reliving it again. Five years ago, I’d been obsessed with watching every scrap of footage I could find—both SpaceTech and off the grid—and all it did was make me angry, depressed, and full of hopelessness. After days in bed, I let Roan drag me from to the warehouse gym. It took me a long time to come back from that dark pit of despair.
Going back to that time in my life wouldn’t help me at all. Instead, I watched everyone else in the room. My mother was staring at the ground. She couldn’t watch it either. We’d seen it before, and it had been hard enough then.
My father’s skin was glowing as he watched beside her, which meant he was upset, but I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. His face wasn’t giving anything away, and I didn’t know him well enough to notice any of his tells.
There was a tic in Roan’s jaw. I knew he wanted to turn this off. He hated watching any footage of the slaughter, but he hated it because he saw me in every Aunare being killed. The last week of compiling footage had really taken a toll on him. There were shadows under his eyes, and his quick draw smile had disappeared. I hated that I’d put him through this, but it was my best plan.
Fynea stood with her spine rigid and eyes wide, but I didn’t know what she was thinking either. She was Lorne’s best friend. We’d trained together some, but we didn’t know each other that well yet. Not enough to click.
The rest of the assistants and security seemed to have some of the same emotions. Some of them were crying. Some of them looked like they were ready to fight. All of them were unable to hide their anger, sadness, and heartbreak. All of them were glowing. I’d never been in a room with so many glowing people, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, except that I noticed none of them were ashamed of it or trying to hide what they felt. I hoped one day I could be able to feel the same confidence in my skin as they did.
I looked at Lorne last. His face was still a mask like my father’s, but I knew him. Or maybe it was that I was his shalshasa and could see through the facade he put up.
Lorne was angry. It didn’t matter how I knew, I just knew it.
The vid went dark and turned off, and then I held up four fingers.
The motion caught Lorne’s attention. “For the love of the Goddess, how many discs do you have?” Lorne squeezed his eyes shut. “Please. No more. I can’t take it.”
“Just one more, and you’ve seen it before.” I gripped his hand and hit play. “Everyone has seen this one. I’m only playing it because after surviving all of this, not to mention Abaddon—which everyone has seen by now—this is the welcoming I got when I came home.”
I hit play, and it showed a compilation of their news reports about me from after I saved their capital city and their king. There was a brief moment of footage when the media seemed to get behind me. Lorne had freed them from his father’s control and they were allowed to finally report freely. But then slowly, it got worse again. They were discussing assassination attempts—debating if I deserved them—and then turned into anger that I was causing a war by being back on Sel’Ani, and then twisted into the outright hatred that I’d been allowed to keep my betrothal to Lorne. Opinion pieces and gossip got more and more screen time, which made it nearly impossible for anything of substance to be reported, let alone anything that was anti-SpaceTech or even slightly pro-war.
I was a distraction the Aunare couldn’t afford.
I leaned back against the loveseat and watched the short video. It didn’t need to be very long to get my point across. Every Aunare knew what was on there. This was something they’d lived through, but it would serve as a reminder of what they’d said and done in the last couple of weeks.
When the last disc turned off, Lorne and Himani looked up at me.
Himani’s face wasn’t so green anymore, but he looked like he’d just aged an eon. Deep lines shadowed his face around his mouth. It was awful to be a part of hurting anyone like that, but it wasn’t Himani’s expression that slayed me. It was Lorne’s.
I had a second to be worried for him before he ripped off his crown and threw it high into the air. He screamed and it was a sound that tore into my heart.
I had a second of confusion and then there was a small pop as it broke into embers, but what rained down was cold ash.
He’d destroyed his crown.
Oh God. Lorne had destroyed his crown on a live intergalactic feed.
Every other person in the room instantly dropped to one knee, bowing their heads, fist pressed to their hearts.
He bowed his head, fingers in his hair, and I knew—I knew without any reason that I should know—that Lorne was about to lose control.
I had to do something. I’d hurt him, and I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t change what I’d done or how I’d done it. I just hoped it was worth the pain I’d caused.
I twisted on the loveseat so that I could hold him, tugging him toward me. “It’s okay.”
He dropped his forehead to my shoulder. “No. It’s really not. This is my fault. I should’ve taken the throne years ago. I should’ve forced it. I should’ve—”
“Stop it.”
“All those lives. They’re on my head. All of—”
I pushed him away. “No.” I said the word loudly, firmly, because he had to hear me. “No. That’s not why I did this. I wanted you to see. I wanted everyone to see. But the time to blame and look back at the past is done. It’s gone. We don’t have time for it. Suck it up, Lorne.”
He looked up at me and the pain in his face, in his soul, it was so acute it took my breath away.
I prayed for courage to finish this and finish it well.
I stood up and picked up all the discs from the table.
“This is the past. It’s over. We can’t change any of it.” I threw them into the air, and then shoved my hand at them, using my power to destroy them in one move. “It’s done,” I screamed.
I took a few deep breaths, and then when I was calmer, I spoke again. “But I want to leave everyone with not only the truth about what happened, but with hope. We can’t change the past, but we can let it inform our decisions. So, what are we going to do now? Where do we go from here? That’s worth talking about.”
I moved back to sit on the couch next to Lorne. He was trying to gain control again, and I gave him my hand. “SpaceTech is drawing closer. They’ve got ships too close to our space, to our colonies, and if you’re not very, very careful, it’s going to be you hiding in a dumpster, running for your life, while SpaceTech slaughters everyone you love on your home planet.”
“You can’t allow this!” One of Himani’s people yelled from behind the camera-control bank. I caught the man with his hand over his mouth, as if he couldn’t believe the words he’d said.
“I’m not allowing anything. I’m here training for war. I’m ready to fight. I’m ready to die to stop this war. But what I’m hearing from the Aunare, what’s being reported, and all the attempts on my life, you are going to allow this to happen. The Aunare have a choice to make. You can either keep going down the dangerous path you are already on and lose the war. Or you can get up. Stand up. Do your part in taking down SpaceTech. I chose the second path. What do you choose?”
I hoped that they would be with me, but no matter what, Lorne and I would do what needed to be done.
Chapter Sixteen
AMIHANNA
Himani recovered the fastest of anyone in the room. “Rumblings came through, but we all collectively ignored them.” Himani’s voice was soft and thready. “We didn’t want to believe anything bad was happening. So, we believed what was easiest.” His gaze was full of unshed tears as he finally looked up at me again. “I was angry when you said we were lazy and selfish earlier, but now I see your point. I can understand now. And it’s a horrible truth to face.” He leaned back in the armchair. “This has been hard to watch. I think I’ll need a few days to fully process not just what I’ve seen, but my role as a member of the media in letting these atrocities happen.”
There was a relief that came to me with Himani’s words. I’d gotten through to him, which meant that I had to have gotten through to at least some of the Aunare. I couldn’t change what happened in the past, but I could change the path that the Aunare were on. I could make a difference to the Aunare and innocent Earthers that were still fighting against SpaceTech.
So that’s what I had to try to do. “I’m sorry for—”
“No, child. Do not apologize. Not ever. Not when it is we who owe you the greatest of apologies.”
The room was quiet, and for the first time today, I wasn’t sure what to say next. Except for one thing. “We need to be united against SpaceTech. We can’t afford to sit back and let SpaceTech take any more from the Aunare than they already have.”
“I have a question. If I may?” Himani’s shoulders were a little slouched, and the lines on his face seemed deeper. It was like the information I’d shared had been a physical weight to him.
He was definitely going to need more than a few days to process everything.
I gave him a small nod. “Of course.” I’d honestly expected a lot more questions from him throughout the footage.
“The train cars in Albuquerque. You mentioned them to me in the arena.” Himani tilted his head as he stared at me.
“What’s the question?” If he’d asked one, I hadn’t heard it.
“Are there really train cars of Aunare bones on Earth?”
He had to be kidding. “Why would I make up something like that?”
“It’s true. All of it,” Roan said from behind the cameras.
Himani nodded slowly. “You’re right. We can’t sit here and do nothing. Not anymore.” Himani’s skin lit from within. “Not anymore.”
Finally. This. This is what I needed to hear. Someone who was on the same page as I was. “I know you’re angry right now. I know this was hard. I promise you it was so much harder living through all of that than it was to watch it. That anger that you’re feeling right now after watching all those people die? That’s raging even hotter inside me. It’s had thirteen years to burn. So, when your news reporters call me angry or grumpy, please remember what you’re feeling right now.”
I hoped that everyone watching the feed right now was feeling the same things as those in the room with me now. “I’m not your enemy. I will fight to protect the Aunare with everything that I am. I will fight until I have no more air in my lungs, and then I will fight some more. And if I can ask one more question of you—ask yourself why anyone would speak out against me? If I’m here to protect you, what are the Aunare that hate me truly doing? Because it’s not anything good.”
“You’ve given us so much to think on, and I’m thankful that we have a leader in charge that will save us despite our faults. I—” Himani’s voice shook. “I think I need to pause the live feed now,” Himani said into the camera in front of him. “But I have a few parting words before I sign off.”
He stared down at his lap for a second, and then looked back again, straight into the camera. This time, the broken look was a little less. He’d put it away to give them a clear message, and I hoped it was good.
“Amihanna di Aetes has lived up to her lineage and done it proud. She’s given all of us a lot to think about.” The shaking was gone from Himani’s voice. “I don’t want to waste any of your time while I struggle with what I now see is the truth, but I know that—without any doubt in my soul—that we, the Aunare people, have hard work to do. Every single Aunare alive has work to do.” He paused for a moment. “My work means that I endeavor to find answers to why this was such a shock to me. I’m a person of the media, and I should have known. It’s my job to keep all of you informed, and I failed at that. I need to know why we lied to you so horribly, and who exactly is behind all these evil stories on an innocent young woman who might become the greatest leader the Aunare have ever seen.” His voice got shaky again, and he took a moment to gather himself. “I’ll have more of my report before the evening news. Watch for alerts from my channel with updates. And until then, I will say, we all owe our life and our support to Amihanna di Aetes. If for nothing else than for making us see. We owe her a debt, and I—for one—will work my hardest to repay it. She has my full support as our future High Queen.”
I’d hoped he would leave them with a good final message, but this was better than good. This was amazing, and way more than I dreamed I’d get from him.
Now I had a strong vote in my favor from a man who had a massive following with the Aunare. If I’d changed his mind, then I had to have gotten through to at least some of the audience watching.
The cameras all zoomed back to Himani’s crew, and I let out a long breath.
Done.
I’d made it through. I wanted to run from the room and from everyone watching me, but I forced myself to move slowly as I stood.
I wanted to look at Lorne, but I wasn’t sure what he was thinking or feeling and I was terrified that by not giving him a warning, I’d broken something with us.
He’d destroyed his crown. On a live feed.
He was sitting there with his head bowed, forearms on his knees, and he looked like a broken king.
I’d broken him.
I assumed he needed a minute. I hoped after that he’d want to talk to me.
So, I was a coward as I rose from my spot and prayed that I could slip out of the room without notice.
The other people in the room were talking softly to each other. I gave a nod to Himani and moved to leave, but my father crossed the room quickly, gripping my wrist before I could get to the door.
I stopped and turned back to him. He looked heartbroken, but it wasn’t from the footage I’d played or the truths I’d spoken. It was his job to know what happened on Earth, and he’d been back to Earth before. He knew what it was like. So, why did he look like his soul had just been ripped from his body?
“What?”
“You really slept in that dumpster?”
Seriously? After everything I’d shown him today that was what he was focused on?
I glanced at Mom. Sometimes I didn’t think we were alike at all, and then she said or did something, and it was so clear that I was her kid. I held back from Lorne just as much as she held back from my father. “You haven’t told him?”
Mom gave me this little sigh, and I knew what she was going to say. I knew it, but I needed to hear it. She’d been distant ever since I got here, and she seemed to be over everything. Like it never happened, and when I couldn’t snap my fingers and be done with the past, she left me to struggle alone.
My father abandoned me on Earth thirteen years ago, and my mother abandoned me when we got to Sel’Ani weeks ago.
She wrung her fingers together. “It was hard coming back here, mija.” She was quiet for a second before continuing. “You know how I am. I don’t talk about my emotions much, and I was grateful to finally be safe and with your father again. It didn’t seem like it would do any good to talk about it. And so I didn’t. I just wanted it to be over, so...”
So she left me to deal with the trauma on my own. “And now?”
Mom walked across the room and wrapped her arms around me. “And now, I know I can’t ignore the pain of the past. Especially when my daughter is brave enough to face it straight on.” She turned to my father but kept her arms around me. “We survived, but barely. Barely. She wasn’t brushing over the bad parts on that arena stage, but she didn’t go into any details. She showed some of it today, but that dumpster part was just a moment really. One moment in thirteen years of struggling every single day. It was worse and harder than anything she’s said. It was worse being there than it was to watch it. I promise you that.”
She squeezed me tighter before letting me go. “It was hard for me these last thirteen years, but so much worse for her because she protected me so many times. If I got caught, I would be okay. But she was from a strong bloodline. There was no hiding what she was, and yet, she was so brave and strong. A true di Aetes. She worked, she saved to buy a ship, she made plan after plan of how to escape, she taught kids to defend themselves, she patrolled the streets to keep us and our neighbors safe, and she never gave up. She—”
