Morning Part 1
Morning Part 1
Part 4: Morning Twilight The Sunset Chronicles
Sunset’s palms tingled. She relaxed her fists and pressed on the door panel of Captain Williams’ office. It flashed red and blurted out a low tone. Sunset blinked and lifted her hand hesitantly off the panel. She turned to look both ways to ensure no one saw her embarrassment. Of course, the captain wouldn’t let anyone into her office any time they pleased. She rattled her gills, irritated with herself, and turned to go. The door beeped and slid open.
“Sunset, please come in,” Captain Williams called from within.
Sunset stepped into the office and the door whished shut behind her. The modest, oval-shaped office had just enough space for a glass desk with a piece cut out of the middle, where the captain sat in a tall backed chair wearing a casual, sleeveless shirt instead of her usual uniform. Her braids, streaked with silver and tied in elegant obsidian swoops hugging her scalp, collected into a knot at the back of her head, tied off with beads of twinkling stars and multi-colored lights dangling just above her dark brown shoulders. She held a mug of floral-scented, steaming liquid. Sunset didn’t recognize the smell, but tea was something her mother loved to make for her father. Her breath wavered. Behind Captain Williams, the wall displayed wildlife and foliage of another world: creatures with fur unlike any she’d seen and pointed beaks resembling those of some fish that ate the coral in her oceans.
“Please, have a seat,” Captain Williams said, and she pressed something on her desk. A chair rose from the floor. “What can I do for you?” She lifted her tea and took a sip. A sigh escaped her lips and she eased into the cushion of her chair. Her relaxed posture helped Sunset feel more at ease.
Sunset settled in. The edge cut into the back of her legs, so she lifted them up and folded them under herself. “I want to be a scout. Like Román.”
The captain’s smile flashed bright and wide. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She slid her hand across the desk toward Sunset. The edge of its surface lit up and the image of a grizzled man with long whiskers and deep wrinkles on his dark face frowned at her. His right eye bore a jagged scar that left it gray and clouded.
“Is this the new recruit?” he asked in a voice as deep and gruff as his visage. Sunset let out a strangled trill of alarm. Perhaps the Ki’Tak were wise to abandon such technology.
“Yes, sir. Sunset, this is Admiral Mark Gleeson.”
“Stand up, recruit,” Gleeson commanded.
Sunset glanced at the captain. She gave her a supportive nod and stood at attention. Sunset mirrored her posture.
“Do you have a surname, Sunset?”
“What is that?” Sunset asked. The general raised an eyebrow and growled. The captain mouthed the word, Sir. Sunset sighed. “Sir.”
“Try the whole sentence again,” he snapped.
Sunset clenched her fists. “What is that…sir?”
“Family name, last name, anything after Sunset.”
“No, I was never given a proper naming ceremony.”
“You may elect to choose a surname for yourself or leave your name as it is.”
“I…” Sunset’s mind raced. Name herself? What would she—
“Time’s up. For now, you will have no Surname. Should you wish to change this status you will report it to your Squad Leader and they will pass it up the chain to ensure your name is updated. Do you wish to continue your application?”
Sunset narrowed her eyes. He stared back with an unflinching gaze bordering on bored. “Yes.” Sunset caught herself. “Sir.”
“I, Admiral Mark Gleeson, accept you, Sunset, into the basic training program for the Planetary League Astrophysical Survey. Upon arrival to basic—assuming you pass the aptitude test—you will be assigned the rank of Cadet and report to your drill instructor for squad assignments. Questions?”
“Aptitude test? What is that?”
“Any naval officer can provide further information about preparation for the test. You have seven days from your current location to ready yourself.” Gleeson turned to address Captain Williams. “You are authorized to provide Sunset with a pair of Smart Bands restricted to educational purposes.”
“Copy, sir.”
“Good.” The general returned to face Sunset. “Welcome aboard, Sunset. Admiral Gleeson, out.”
The video blinked away and Sunset exhaled and crumpled into the chair. Captain Williams strode to the side of her wall and pressed on a panel that lit up and slid out. She extracted a pair of cuffs and approached Sunset. She handed the bands to her, but Sunset recoiled out of instinct. Though she may accept technology more than her mother did, she still did not trust it. Sunset swallowed her superstition and offered her arms. Captain Williams slid them on and they adjusted themselves to fit over her wrists and forearms. Sunset flattened her ears and the muscles in her back cramped as she fought the urge to pull them away. She expected the devices to weigh her arms down, but to her delighted surprise, she barely registered their weight.
“Captain Williams, authorization code C-V-3-4-1-B.”
Sunset felt a tingle work all the way up her arms and a voice sounded in her ear. “User registered for Preparatory Education.” She shrieked and slammed her hand into her head. She scrambled away against the wall, upending her chair in process.
“Wait, it’s all right!” Captain Williams pleaded with her hands raised. Sunset replied with a rapid-fire string of curses, growls, and clicks as she sprang to her feet. “It’s okay, that’s how the bands keep your communication private. I can’t hear what it says. It uses the body’s ability to transfer energy by causing low grade vibrations into your ear. It’s not anything else. It’s just technology.”
“Perhaps my kind were wise to abandon it,” Sunset replied through bared teeth and wild arm movements.
“The enhanced learning modules haven’t been calibrated for Ki’Tak consciousness, and it won’t be until you as a people agree to let us scan your brains. With your help, we can enhance the experience—”
“I don’t even want to know what that is. These are invasion enough.” Sunset growled and scratched at the bands on her wrists. She grumbled a muffled curse and sat back down.
“A fair point.” Captain Williams crossed her arms and leaned against her desk. “In the coming weeks, Sunset, you’ll be faced with a number of challenges and technology you’ve not come across before. It’s going to be a long and hard road, but I have every ounce of confidence that you will excel. Entrance to the Scout program is contingent on your score throughout Basic. After we finish here, you’ll rejoin Agent Berkely on their ship and travel to a new system.”
“Will I be able to return?”
“You may request a particular station, but I am afraid that decision will be left to Command. I will put in a request to have you stationed aboard my ship. The Defendrons will be in need of their guardian and I suspect we have a long way to go before the conflict on Takarra is over.”
Pinpricks crawled across her back. Travel further into the heavens? Doubt drew a veil down over Sunset’s determination. Was it right for her to leave for such a distance? How would her mother react?
As though she read her mind, she asked, “Would you like a chance to say goodbye to your mother?”
Sunset nodded. Captain Williams made a hand gesture and the door opened. She straightened her posture and offered Sunset a salute. Sunset stood and returned the gesture in awkward fashion. Captain Williams beamed as Sunset left.
She navigated the hallways of the ship with her mind in daze until she reached the quarters that she and her mother shared. When she entered, a small arrangement of flowers greeted her from the table in the middle of the room. Sunset cooed a sigh of relief at the increased humidity. Her mother sat in front of a steaming mug of tea. This time, Sunset recognized the scent. How did they get the plants up? She shook away the thought. That was a concern for another day. She took the seat across from her mother. The biting scent of the of sea carried over from the plants floating in the hot water riled up memories Sunset would have rather left behind. Memories of her parents’ playing chittering replayed themselves unbidden, and a heaviness pulled her shoulders and gaze down to the hands folded in her lap.
“Are you leaving?” her mother asked. Sunset didn’t dare say anything, but nodded all the same. A slow trembling sigh rolled across the table as her mother gripped her mug and took a sip. “Why?”
“I don’t belong here with the others.”
“What about me?”
“What about you?” Sunset retorted with a snort. “You can always go back to the Ki’Tak. You’ll have an entire community, but not while I’m still here. They tolerate me even less than they tolerate the technology. If I leave, you—”
“Will lose the last connection to your father I have,” Temerity hissed. “He has been gone barely a week, or a few days—depths below, I can’t tell how time works anymore. All I know is that your face reminds me of him. I gave up my community, my people, for him… and for you. Without being able to look at you, all I’ll see is the blood—”
She stood and whirled away from Sunset. Her body shook and Sunset sat frozen in her chair. Shame paralyzed her vocal cords and guilt’s cold touch crept down her face and neck. How could she have been so callous? After a few moments, Temerity wiped at her face and turned back around to retake her place at the table.
“I’m sorry, my heart.” She hadn’t called Sunset that since she was a child. Her father didn’t approve of soft words once she could wield his spear. “My sacrifices are not meant to be your burden. I know you do not have a people here, yet. Not among the Ki’Tak, so—”
“I’ll come back. I promise.”
Temerity slid her chair to sit next to Sunset and rested her hand on her daughter’s leg. Sunset shifted herself to lean against her mother’s arm and laid her head atop her shoulder.
“I know you will. We wanted better for you, and I have to remind myself that my sacrifices were meant to better your life. Not mine. Go. I will wait here to see what you have grown to be.” Sunset couldn’t hold the flood of emotions back any longer, and for the second time in as many days, cried with her mother. When her body had shaken loose her sobs, Sunset stood and offered a curt goodbye. Better to rip the bandage than let the fresh would fester.
She found Agent Berkley in the hangar, waiting for her at the shuttle. The Defendrons stayed in their corner out of the way of the bustle. Ana beeped a greeting to her, and Sunset told Agent Berkley to wait a moment. She updated the Defendrons on her plans and gave them an estimated timeline. She had no idea if it was at all accurate. Ana agreed it a wise choice and assured her they would remain on the ship should their assistance be needed with the events on the surface. Once finished, Sunset returned to Agent Berkley and followed them onto the shuttle.
As they glided out into space, her gaze followed the swirling wisps of clouds floating across the sky and then narrowed to the earth below. She traced the outline of the grounds she knew with her fingertip against the glass. It had seemed so vast, yet now she could fit her old world into a few swipes of her finger.
She settled back as the ground became obscured with distance, and tried in vain to capture the enormity of space itself before her. Its infinite possibilities yawned before her within that glittering black tapestry. A fluttering sensation grew in her chest and spread to her stomach. Was it excitement? Sadness? A mixture of both? She couldn’t be sure, but she knew whatever waited ahead was only the tip of the spear.