1.3.2

The Exit of Endra

The Guardians returned shortly with a small collection of precious titles, along with a blank notebook for her own inscription. Everything Astrid took with her fit into a modest satchel. She resolutely settled the bag over her plain garb and presented herself to her new colleagues.

“Come, then.” Captain London took his place ahead of the pack, with Agent Romo and Commander Karth behind. Astrid felt as though concrete lined her slippered feet as she trailed away from the Keeper’s office. Away from the courtyard, the dorms, and her people.

Guards still accompanied them, as due their responsibility. But soon, too soon, they were escorted to parts of the Administration building Astrid rarely saw. Then they reached the front vestibule of the compound. And the exit.

The Guardians halted just inside. When Astrid crossed into the final atrium without them, she looked back.

The men ahead filed briskly, one at a time through the front door, and free air flowed to where she stood, caught between.

She could feel the eyes of the Guardians upon her, as torn as she in their duty. She realized, they, too, must feel they somehow broke the laws of nature by not pursuing her.

“Miss Hale.”

The captain’s voice called from outside the door. In the entryway, Karth propped the exit wide for her.

The breeze whisked strands of ashen pink hair.

“I never thought to pass through these doors...”

So distracted by what she left behind, it only now dawned on Astrid that she literally could not imagine what lay outside. Absolutely nothing of what awaited her a mere meter beyond the Sanctuary’s walls.

Wordlessly, Commander Kendall extended a gentleman’s hand to her from the door. Astrid followed the lines of his arm up to his face.

He didn’t speak or goad her. Instead, his expression softened at her hesitance.

Behind his aura of white noise lay a sense of gentleness. And though Astrid could scarcely summon a breath, let alone a questioning word, he remained, fingers outstretched, to take her hand.

She ventured another step. Then another. Until Astrid’s fingers slid into his palm, and Karth led her, one step at a time, into the unknown.

~~~

In retrospect, one day Astrid would determine the walk to the captain’s ship could have only taken a few minutes. But in her newfound liberation, every moment stretched for hours. A sense of vacancy fell over her senses.

How could she have so easily misjudged the size of her own home? It occurred to her the scale of the whole galaxy might be beyond her reckoning, and she could never have known.

Astrid could not have conceived of the sensation that came with the distinct absence of her kind all around her. For the first time in her life, a void met her where a tether of constantly recycling energy once flowed.

The Statics offered nothing but their dull buzz. She felt swallowed by the loneliness in the air. With each step, she became the only Channeler in a greater, and greater distance. It felt an assault on her senses. A gaping maw of singular aloneness.

Not until the squad reached the landing port, a good deal from the facility, did anything distract her from the feeling.

Upon a poured concrete slab well away from the Sanctuary proper rested a sleek, awe-inspiring vessel. Astrid reviewed pictures of varying spaceships in her textbooks, but nothing like the remarkable feat of engineering before her.

It sat only two to three stories tall, highest at its symmetrical center. Relatively slight for a military vessel, even in its elongated aerodynamic shape. Metal the color of desert sand wrapped around most the hull, from the bottom, near to the top. Its plates fit together in a smooth matte.

Amber lights dotted the outside along its mid-level. Long arms extended toward the front, on either side of the frame, with imposing weapons systems tucked beneath. But over the high-centered top, and presumably the roof, an alloy of gleaming copper hue made a decorative coat that glinted in the moonlight.

It gleamed with splendor, and the overall effect of such warm ochre tones in contrast to the dark cold sky shone like the inviting glow of an oasis. A name in bold script, emblazoned in the same copper, flashed over the matte hull below.

“Incredible…”

Beside her, Captain London smiled proudly at Astrid’s admiration.

“The Aldebaran.” He grinned. “It’s a-”

“Frigate,” she named.

London beamed. “Indeed.”

“I studied ships in technical manuals, but I never imagined…”

“She’s a bit special,” London revealed. “Come on. The rest are probably anxious to meet you.”

“Romo.” The captain turned his attention to one of their men and the addressed agent delved into a side pouch for a comm set.

Romo fiddled with settings briefly before he settled a device the size of a bean into his ear and cleared his throat.

“Anders.”

A moment passed before Romo’s face spread into a grin.

“You expected anything less?” he bantered with the other end of the line. “We’re ready for entry.”

At the exchange, a fine seam at the base of the ship split wide and a cargo door descended into a ramp. When settled on the pad with a sturdy thump Romo and the captain subsequently made to board.

But Karth lingered while Astrid employed her breathing exercises to detangle the knots in her stomach.

Her thin shoes felt flimsy when met with the thick material of such a substantial structure. Once inside, the cargo ramp slid up with them, and closed her off from the planet’s surface.

Within a large hold, at the mercy of four more Statics and their inquisitive stares, Astrid’s confidence flagged.

Romo crossed directly to a lean man with fawn hair, and the two set about inspecting the equipment brought with them, without a word to Astrid or the others.

Karth parted from Astrid’s side, and with a murmured word to the captain, receded from the hold to exiting twin staircases at its rear.

Captain London advanced toward the three that remained.

A soldier of light brown skin and matching close-cut curls met him. An overall mud hue accentuated eyes the color of the ferns found in Endra’s courtyards. Even through the dimly lit hold, the man peered at Astrid periodically while Captain London addressed him in hushed tones.

Astrid diverted her own gaze, unused to such intense attention all at once.

Aside, however, stood two women: a stocky fighter with a short crop of unruly platinum locks, and a gorgeous dark woman. Black curls bounced as the latter lit into a bright smile and approached first.

“Hello! Welcome. I’m Tenya. Gunnery Chief,” the woman introduced herself.

Astrid readjusted her satchel as a proper response eluded her. “I don’t know what that means.”

Tenya’s smile didn’t even wane. It remained firmly stretched between full lips.

“It means I’m in charge of servicing weapons for the Ground Team. More like, I am the Ground Team.”

She winked, but the woman at her side rolled her eyes.

“Or so you’d like to think. All beauty and no brawn.” It sounded a jest, but no smirk graced the blonde’s mouth.

Tenya pursed her lips to her sporty colleague. “You mean you?”

“Well, I wasn’t talking about Dell.” The toe-headed girl jutted a thumb to the man now in conversation with Romo.

Astrid noted the second woman wore grey camo pants cut roughly into shorts and rolled over thickly-muscled thighs. Astrid never met seen someone so fit before. The Channelers, though thoroughly drilled, employed activity that cultivated lean muscle. But this woman looked like she could kick doors down on the first try.

“Miss Hale.”

The captain demanded her attention as, having finished his chat, he raised a hand to present the young man beside him.

“This is Lieutenant Anderson Reeves. He’ll be in charge of acclimating you to the Service.”

“Hello.” Astrid gripped her satchel-strap tighter. The man wouldn’t take his eyes off her, and she felt much like an amoeba under a microscope.

“Jesus, Anders, give the girl a break.” Tenya shifted on her hip with a laugh.

It seemed to interrupt the man’s inward deliberation. “I apologize. We didn’t know what to expect.”

“The sentiment is mutual,” Astrid reminded him.