Shane paused to catch his breath before gathering his notes. He’d overtaxed himself preparing breakfast, and he’d be paying the price for the rest of the day.
But there was nothing he could do about it now. With Commodore Javon’s visit mere hours away, he’d have to power through the pain again. Showing any weakness today might delay the trip to Janikk, and time was running out to find a more permanent home for the armada of defectors currently orbiting Baden. One more week and the Baden Defense Force would likely want more than their currently near-constant demand for updates. And that wasn’t even accounting for the traumas they’d all face if Sparnell caught them first.
Although he didn’t have to continue to overexert himself. His stubborn refusal to accept Razick’s assistance was clearly bringing out the battle mage’s worst emotions.
Not to mention, he needed to set a better example for his son. He’d caught Jake’s recognition of his own pain. How could he expect Jake to accept his help in the future if he refused to accept anyone else’s right now, when he clearly needed it?
He retrieved the body brace Jake and Razick had designed for him, tugging it free from where it had fallen between the bed and the wall, and pulled it on. It only took a moment to adjust the straps, tucking the harness snugly beneath his shirt, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the soothing hum of the exosuit’s magic surged to life.
Buttoning his shirt over the brace, he quickly verified he’d gathered all his handwritten paperwork detailing his thoughts on their pending mission. After a pause, Shane also plucked the Sparnelli datapad holding the official reports of the mysterious Planet TR-75 from its perch on his scuffed nightstand before phasing into the Afterlife to emerge back in the kitchen.
Razick was right. There was no sense overtaxing himself physically if he didn’t have to.
His houseguests had finished their efforts to clean the kitchen and now sat at the table, drinking water and sharing memories of their own childhood exploits. Jake sat between them, enthralled, his elbows propped on the table as he rested his chin in his hands, watching intently while Razick explained a particularly clever prank she’d played on her brother.
Shane wrinkled his nose and hoped they weren’t giving Jake too many new ideas. The boy was creative enough on his own.
Razick nodded a silent acknowledgement of Shane’s arrival, quickly wrapping up her story as he claimed the empty chair and organized his notes while the others burst into laughter.He waited patiently, only clearing his throat as the sound tapered toward silence.
They turned to him expectantly, and he pulled up the datapad, setting the screen to holographic projection mode. “TR-75. Let’s start with what we know. Jeb?”
“Fleet Command authorized three different expeditions to Planet TR-75, set for different seasons, different locations on the planet and larger exploration teams with each attempt.” The biologist keyed in the reports on the datapad, pulling up a sparsely mapped rendition of the planet with markers at three separate locations. “The first two? No survivors. But the third…” He rotated the globe to point to the expedition site. “The third attempt. They rescued my former coworker on his second day. The others were already dead by that point.”
Shane consulted his notes, looking for anything they’d missed. “He claimed the planet itself killed everyone.”
“He was known to embellish.” Jeb tugged at his hair. “But from what I could gather, from him and the heavily redacted debriefings of the others, they were hunted relentlessly by the wildlife wherever they went. Those who survived that died to the vegetation.”
“Do you remember his descriptions for any of the creatures on the planet?” Shane glared at his tablet. “How much do they correlate to the official reports? What are we likely to encounter?”
This was a train of thought they hadn’t discussed before.
Jeb frowned. “Good question. From what I remember… The most prevalent were the red furred pack animals. He said they kept herding his team toward caves, trying to drive them inside. The closer to nightfall, the more desperately they hunted.”
As Jeb continued to detail various plants and animals from the planet, Shane felt a familiar presence settle into the locket against his chest.
“You’re early,” he whispered, trusting Jeb’s lecture to Razick’s note taking. Instead he closed his eyes, reaching beneath his shirt to rub the necklace. He concentrated his thoughts on gratitude and affection, and received a burst of love from Feels in return.
I miss you, Grim. His empath sent thoughts of loneliness.
“I know,” Shane murmured softly. “I miss you, too. I want to keep you all to myself and never let you go.”
An enticing thought. Feels radiated amusement and mischief. You should try it sometime.
“Don’t encourage me.” Shane clutched the locket tighter. “You know I’ll do it.”
“So the creatures in his stories do mostly match the official report,” Jeb concluded. “And they’re coordinated. There’s definitely an intelligence at work.”
“Janikk?” Jake’s eyes shone as he spoke. “Why did he say that’s the planet’s name?”
“Said he heard the wind speak.” Jeb shrugged. “Wasn’t any language he recognized, but it kept using the same word in every sentence: Janikk. He assumed it was meant as a name.”
“So… Either we’re traveling to a sentient planet who can coordinate with the wildlife,” Shane summarized, “or we’re chasing the frantic musings of a madman about a death planet.”
“Pretty much.” Jeb grinned. “Should be fun! And it’s already chased off the SAF, so hopefully they’ll be less inclined to hunt us down if we’re able to settle there.”
Shane had to admit, he’d been tempted to relocate the fleet for that feature alone, regardless of their success at winning over the planet. Sparnell would hunt them down – he’d personally dispatched Admiral Kydell’s own retention teams often enough to recognize that inevitability – but Jeb’s attempts at retrieving the full reports on TR-75 had met resistance in several roadblocks announcing the information as classified to Fleet Command.
He shook his head. The same secrecy that hid the admirals’ shame at repeated defeat from an uninhabited planet would hide his fleet in turn. Few would risk the vengeance of Fleet Command for violating a classified system.
And those who would knew better than to do so at the first opportunity.
“Jake’s staying behind this time, so it’ll just be the three of us,” he said, noting his companions had grown silent. “Although… Jeb, I’d like Hydroponics to come, too, if she’s willing.”
“Urla is happy to hear that.” Jeb pointed to his watch, and Shane noted the presence of the Inevitable’s Hydroponics Afterlife Intelligence. “She made me promise to smuggle her in if she wasn’t invited.”
“Good. Given the apparent hostility of the plantlife, two agrokinesiologists will be better than one.” Plus Urla had some additional skills Shane hoped to utilize, although it appeared she hadn’t said much to Jeb on the matter. He turned his attention to Razick. “You ready to bodyguard? You’re the only one of us equipped for offensive magic.”
Razick nodded. “I’ll raid the Inevitable’s armory before we land. What’s left of it.” She frowned at him. “Nobody’ll order me to kill you this time, so I’m not holding back.”
“Approved. Just, keep it non-lethal. Much as you can.” He tapped the datapad. “Our mission is to gain the favor of the planet, not make her angrier. We’ll fight back as little as possible.” He held up a finger as Razick began to protest. “I’ll admit, I don’t know if that’s possible. So yes, I’ll feel safer if you’re fully armed. If I’m wrong, we’ll need you at your best if we plan to survive.”
Razick quieted at his acknowledgement, settling back into her chair.
Shane closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples. “We’re as prepared as we can be. We’ll run it past Commodore Javon when she arrives, check in on the Inevitable’s repairs, and see if we missed anything. We’re leaving for Janikk tomorrow, after I drop Jake of at Veris’ house.”
Jake frowned, but said nothing.
No. You’re not going. Not without me. Not in this state. I forbid it. Feels’ disapproval radiated from the locket.
“Feels…” Shane sighed. There was always so much work to do. “The fleet needs you. More than I do.”
I disagree, Grim. And what about how much I need you? The empath paused, as if choosing their words. You might want to go to your room.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re sending me to my room? You’re not my parent.”
No. I’m your partner, and my vote in this relationship counts just as much as yours. There was no mistaking Feels’ warning tone. We need to talk about this. And I doubt you want to have this argument in front of our guests?
Shane sighed, deflating. “Fine.”
He turned to the others, each busy pretending to ignore his one-sided conversation. “We’ll continue this later.”
Without waiting for their reactions, he rose from his seat, phasing through the Afterlife to emerge in the small room he claimed as his. The mattress sagged at his weight as he sat, concentrating his thoughts on love and openness. “It’s just us now. What’s on your mind?”
Feels radiated frustration, mixed with fear. After all these years, you’re finally mine. I don’t want to lose you now to your own stubbornness.
“I’m a necromancer,” Shane reminded them patiently. “Death means nothing to me.”
And this body I made for you? Does that mean nothing, too?
Shane exhaled sharply. His current body was a masterwork of Feels’ skills, back when they’d been a prominent fixture within the Baden underground. They’d managed to include all the alterations he’d requested in an effort to obscure his identity as Admiral Kydell’s Commodore within the Sparnell Armed Forces, while still retaining enough of his own genetics that the process to bind his soul into its new home had operated like a resurrection.
Eying his reflection in the desilvering mirror above his faded dresser, he caught his own orange stare glaring back at him, his muscular frame clearly visible through his shirt. Shane had to admit in hindsight that the talented empath had maintained many of their own favorite features from his original physical appearance. He found himself wondering just how much love Feels had poured into the efforts of his body’s creation…
And recognized with a start that if something happened to it, he didn’t have the resources to obtain a replacement, and all their tender efforts would have been for nothing. Because of him.
“Shit, Feels, I didn’t mean to–”
The empath interrupted, now projecting their own anger. I may be dead, but I don’t want you to join me just yet! You may as well murder me a second time. Their anger shifted to frustration. At least let me heal you before you go.
“But the fleet–”
Can wait. You’re more important. Now and always. Feels paused, and Shane felt the frustration dissipate into… mischief? I can make it worth your while.
He felt his breath catch as Feels’ Psychomorpation sent a frisson of pleasure resonating along his Oath and throughout his body, the strength of the emotion amplified by the same spellworked vows eternally pledging his soul to the empath.
“You… don’t fight fair,” he gasped, clawing at the sheets to keep his balance.
I don’t want to fight at all. But you’ve made it clear it’s either this, or I give you an order and hope Kydell’s conditioning kicks in. Either way, I am healing you today. The empath’s voice was firm, the tone they reserved for him alone, most often to pull him out from emotional spirals. So, what’ll it be, Grim?
Shane exhaled at the recognition of just how much he’d been worrying his empath, his breath still ragged from their spell. Feels needed this. Needed him.
He concentrated on his own memories of mischief, of the troubles he’d caused in the service during the early days of his conscription, and all the times Feels had rescued him from his own ill-advised ambitions. “Option two?”
He was rewarded with a snort. You’re incorrigible. You know that?
“You offered.” He shrugged, before turning his thoughts to apology. “I’m sorry I keep pushing you away, Feels. You matter to me. We matter.” He hung his head, rubbing his feet against the threadbare carpet. “I get so wrapped up in everything that needs my attention, and in all my fears of becoming too possessive of you, that I forget you need me, too.” He squeezed his eyes shut, finding his words. “I’ll make it up to you. I’m all yours. Do what you want. Just… Tell me what you need from me.”
Lay down. Hold still. And don’t get up until I tell you. Feels’ words were sharp, but the love beneath them was unmistakable.
Shane slowly unbuttoned his shirt, gently caressing the locket as he studied his own reflection. Kydell’s claw strike against his cheek, the streaks of lightning etched clearly across his chest, the deeper burns and scarring where Razick’s Electromancy had seared the locket into his ochre skin, and the soft powered brace she’d crafted with his son to allow him to maintain his mobility despite his injuries.
Feels was right. It had been two weeks since the duel against Kydell, and he was leaving tomorrow in an effort to tame a hostile planet. He needed to set aside his stubborn pride and let them take care of him. Let them heal him.
Taking a deep breath, he lay down on the bed, closing his eyes again as he sank into the mattress. He exhaled slowly to clear his mind and, for the first time he could remember, surrendered.
