By the time Kerry and Sylvk made it back off the dance floor, Rob and I were ready to leave, I really did need rest, as much as I had needed this, I was exhausted and my bunk called to me.
The air outside the lounge was crisp and cool, a contrast to the warmth and laughter we’d left behind. The team spilled out onto the academy grounds, our steps lighter after the night’s small but well-deserved break. My headache had settled into a dull, persistent throb, just manageable enough to ignore.
Kerry and Sylvk walked slightly ahead, their shoulders occasionally brushing, a new ease in their interaction. Rob had a satisfied look on his face as he watched them, his earlier conversation with me clearly on his mind.
“That drink might have been awful,” Kerry said, glancing back at us, “but at least it got Rob to stop worrying about graduation.”
“Who says I’m not worrying?” Rob said, throwing up his hands. “I’m just hiding it really, really well.”
“Not well enough,” Sylvk muttered, earning a laugh from the rest of us.
“You really want to graduate?” I asked him.
“Flunking out wasn’t my finest moment; passing out here means a lot to me, yes.”
I smiled. “Then let’s hope everything we’ve done is good enough for us all to pass out.”
We turned a corner near the main courtyard, and that’s when I saw them. Andri and Devin stood near the fountain, talking quietly. With them was someone I hadn’t seen before, a younger guy, maybe mid-teens, with Andri’s sharp features but a far more open expression.
“Great,” Kerry muttered under her breath, her smile fading slightly. “Just what we need.”
“It’s fine,” I said, continuing forward. Avoiding them would only make things more awkward in the long run.
Andri looked up as we approached, his expression shifting from surprise to something almost... cordial. He straightened up, nodding in acknowledgement.
“Lynx,” he said to Rob, his tone lacking its usual edge. “Glad you all made it back in one piece from the station.”
“More or less,” I replied, cautious but willing to match his tone.
An awkward silence stretched between us before Andri cleared his throat. “I’m glad the missions all went well. Results will be in soon, and I hope we both place at the top.”
Devin glanced between us, clearly confused by the civil interaction. “You guys did some impressive work out there, from what we’ve heard.”
The younger boy stepped forward, looking at me with undisguised curiosity. “Are you the guy who fixed the electrics during the systems failure? The one who rewired the backup generator under pressure?”
I blinked in surprise. “Yeah, that was me. How did you—”
“Word gets around,” the boy said with a grin. “I’m Kael. I’m studying electrical engineering. That bypass you created? Pure genius. I would’ve never thought of using the auxiliary cooling lines as a power conduit.”
Andri shot his brother a look—not angry, just mildly exasperated. “Kael’s obsessed with unconventional engineering solutions.”
Kael extended his hand, completely ignoring the historical tension between our groups. “It’s really cool to meet you. Maybe someday you could show me how you stabilized the power fluctuations?”
I shook his hand, surprised by the genuine enthusiasm. “Sure, if you’d like.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Andri said, but there was a hint of fondness in his voice. “He’ll talk your ear off about circuit breakers and power distribution nodes.”
Rob coughed pointedly beside me. “Speaking of power distribution, we should probably head back. Early start tomorrow.”
Kerry nodded, still watchful, but the tension in her shoulders had eased somewhat.
“Right,” I agreed, taking a step back. “Good seeing you.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Andri’s mouth. “Yeah. You too.”
The moment hung there, balanced on the edge of something, not quite friendship, but perhaps the beginning of mutual respect.
And then, a sound. So soft it could have been the wind, but Doli’s alarm in my mind told me otherwise.
<
Before I could react, a shadow detached itself from the edge of the courtyard.
Harlen Macks.
He strolled toward us, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes glinting with dangerous amusement.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Macks said. “All my favorite people in one place.”
Devin froze, her usual confidence evaporating in a split second. Andri stiffened, his posture shifting from casual to guarded, one hand moving protectively toward his younger brother. Even Kael sensed the change in the air, his eyes wide with sudden fear.
“Macks,” I said. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Just enjoying the night,” he said, his smile cold. “Thought I’d check in on some old friends.”
His gaze shifted to Andri, then to Kael. “Didn’t know you had your little shadow out with you, Kael isn’t it?”
Kael took an involuntary step back, bumping into his brother.
“Leave him out of this,” Andri warned, true fear evident in his eyes for the first time I could remember.
Macks’ smile widened. “Oh, but he’s the interesting one, isn’t he? All that potential. Such a shame if something… happened to him.”
<
Suddenly, the courtyard erupted into chaos. Dark figures emerged from the shadows, weapons drawn. Kerry let out a startled cry as one lunged at her, but Sylvk was faster. He drove his shoulder into the attacker, sending them both crashing into a decorative planter.
Rob grabbed my arm, pulling me down as a shot sizzled through the air where my head had been moments before. “Down!” he shouted. “Everyone down!”
Macks moved with inhuman speed. One moment he was standing a few feet away, the next he had a knife in his hand, driving it into Kael’s side.
Kael’s scream pierced the night, a sound of pure agony that raised the hairs on my neck. He crumpled to the ground as Andri caught him.
“The Brakers send their regards,” Macks leaned in, voice chillingly soft as he twisted the blade in deeper. “This is so your father sees real consequences. If he doesn’t hand over the rest of those override codes, I’ll pick you off one by one now. No more ethical constraints.”
“You bastard!” Andri shouted, lunging at Macks, but Devin grapple him back.
“Call for medics now!” I yelled, rushing to Kael’s side as Macks backed away.
More shots rang out, and strange energy weapons scorches stone around us. Kerry had taken cover behind a bench, returning fire with a weapon I didn’t even know she carried. Then Rob was at my side, helping me drag Kael toward shelter.
Kael’s blood gushed warm over my fingers, slick and terrifyingly endless. My heart pounded against my ribs as panic surged through me. “Medics, now!” I yelled desperately.
<
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Through the chaos, I saw Sylvk engaged in hand-to-hand combat with one of Macks’ associates. A blow caught him in the jaw, sending him staggering, but he recovered instantly, driving his fist into his attacker’s gut.
Macks took a step back, wiping the blade on his sleeve with casual indifference. “Consider that your families last warning.”
Before anyone could stop him, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, his team melting away with him, leaving nothing but chaos in their wake.
My comms buzzed sharply. Kuba’s voice cut through the static: “Piotr, medics are nearly there, hold your position. I’m close.”
Andri knelt beside me, his face pale, hands pressing desperately against his brother’s wound. “Why... why would he do this?”
“They’re desperate,” Sylvk said, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek, his weapon drawn in case Macks returned.
Kerry appeared at my side, her hands steady as she helped me apply pressure to Kael’s wound. “He’s losing too much blood,” she said. “The blade hit something vital.”
Rob kept watch; eyeing every shadow. “This wasn’t just an attack—.”
The medics arrived moments later, swarming around Kael. A trauma specialist pushed me aside, her hands moving in a blur as she worked to stabilize him.
“Multiple lacerations, punctured kidney, internal bleeding,” she called out. “Prep for emergency surgery immediately.”
They whisked him away on a hovering stretcher, Andri following, his face a mask of barely contained grief and rage
Sirens then wailed across the academy, emergency lights flashing as security protocols engaged. Cadets appeared in building doorways, confused and frightened, as armed security officers sprinted past.
I stood, my hands and uniform stained with blood, my chest tight with fury. What was worse too, my head pounded mercilessly as the adrenaline faded.
“This isn’t over,” I said, looking at my team—Kerry with a bruised cheek, Rob with his torn uniform, and Sylvk bleeding from several minor wounds.
“No,” Sylvk wiped blood from his mouth. “Not by a long shot.”
Rob’s eyes widened as he looked up from his comm unit. “Security’s reporting multiple intrusions at the academy. Macks didn’t come alone; the whole Avademy is going into lockdown.”
***
The medical wing was a flurry of controlled chaos. Medics rushed between rooms, their voices tense but disciplined. Security officers stood at every entrance, weapons at the ready. The smell of antiseptic couldn’t quite mask the metallic tang of blood that still clung to my clothes even after we’d washed off in the closest bathrooms.
Kael was whisked into surgery. Andri sat in the closest room, head in his hands, Devin beside him in silent support. They both looked up as our team approached.
“Any news?” I asked, my voice rough with exhaustion.
Andri shook his head, his eyes red-rimmed. “Still in surgery. They said the knife was... specially designed to cause maximum damage.”
“He’ll pull through,” Kerry said with gentle confidence. “The medical team here is the best in the fleet.”
Andri laughed bitterly. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? My brother is fighting for his life because of me. Because I wasn’t paying attention.”
“This isn’t on you,” I said firmly. “It’s on Macks and whoever’s pulling his strings.”
Before Andri could respond, Major Kuba strode into the waiting area, flanked by security officers. Her uniform was disheveled, and I could see the strain in her eyes, the tight set of her jaw.
“Sitrep,” she demanded, addressing all of us. “I want every detail, exactly as it happened.”
We took turns recounting the attack, each from our perspective. Kerry described the ambush, Sylvk detailed the combat tactics of Macks’ team, Rob explained their coordinated retreat pattern. When it was my turn, I focused on Macks’ words to Kael—the demand for override codes, the Brakers’ desire for AI without ethical constraints.
Kuba listened intently, her expression growing darker with each detail. When we finished, she stood silently for a moment, processing.
“I knew I shouldn’t have let any of you out of my sights,” she said.
“We were on academy grounds, with three times the security,” Sylvk said. “If they got in, like this, they knew exactly how to do so.”
“You’re right,” she finally said. “They knew exactly where you would be and when. They had exit strategies, tactical positions—they had inside help.”
“How did they get past all the extra security?” Kerry asked, the question we were all thinking.
Kuba’s expression hardened. “That’s what I intend to find out. We’ve already identified three security breaches in our perimeter defenses. Someone gave them access.”
“Someone inside the academy,” Rob said, the implication hanging heavy in the air.
“Major Torven,” Sylvk growled.
“Yes,” Kuba confirmed.
She turned to Andri, her tone softening slightly. “Your brother’s surgeon just reported that he’s stabilized. The next few hours will be critical, but they’re optimistic.”
Relief washed over Andri’s face, his shoulders sagging. “Thank you.”
Kuba nodded, then addressed us all again. “As of now, the academy is under level one security protocols. Armed escorts for all movements between buildings. Curfew in effect. Communication monitored. This is not a drill—this is war.”
She paused, her gaze settling on me. “Piotr, a word.”
I followed her to a quiet corner, away from the others. Up close, I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the tension in her shoulders.
“You look like hell,” she said bluntly.
“Feel like it too,” I admitted.
“The doctors said Kael would be dead if you hadn’t been there,” she said, surprising me. “Quick thinking.”
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “Anyone would have done the same.”
“Perhaps.” She studied me, her gaze piercing. “But not everyone would have the clarity to do it correctly under fire, and especially while sick. You kept your team safe, provided first aid, and maintained situational awareness throughout. That’s leadership, Piotr.”
“I couldn’t stop Macks,” I said, the failure weighing heavily on me.
“No one could,” she replied. “That’s not the point. The point is that you acted decisively in a crisis. The academy needs that right now.”
She handed me a security badge, higher clearance than I’d ever had. “From now on, you and your team report directly to me. The regular chain of command is compromised.”
I stared at the badge, understanding the responsibility it represented. “What about Andri and Devin?”
“Them too,” she said. “Assuming they’re willing to work with you.”
“And our tomorrow?”
Then I noticed something I hadn’t before: a small blood stain on her sleeve.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
She glanced down, dismissive. “Not mine. There was another attack, the science wing. I was there when it happened.”
The implications hit me immediately. “They were after Doli’s core.”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “And they didn’t know where to look. They were just looking for me. Fortunately, the security measures at the academy we implemented, held.”
She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “This is just the beginning. Let’s hope, Andri’s father will hold out still, or—
“He will,” I tried to soothe her.
Her eyes met mine, resolute and unflinching. “You need rest,” she said.
“No,” I replied. “We need to talk. We need to sort this out.”
“Let me walk you back to your bunk then.”
The walk was awkward, neither of us knew what to say. I sure didn’t.
We walked past the lake I’d been at earlier, and I couldn’t help but stop again. I sat, and she sat with me, her leg brushing against mine.
She was close enough I could feel her warmth. “I went to the medical ward,” she eventually said, but they told me you’d already left. Then Doli messaged me you were out with the team, wanted something normal…”
I started to speak, then stopped, the words trapped in my throat. How could I tell her anything that was going on in my head? How could I even put any of this into words?
<
>
The silence between us grew thick like the evening fog settling over the lake, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the silence of someone who understood that sometimes words weren’t enough.
Our eyes met briefly. A slight nod was all she gave, but it contained volumes. In that moment, I knew she understood, not the details, perhaps, but the heaviness I was carrying. The fear, the uncertainty, the bone-deep exhaustion. She saw it all in a single glance, and she didn’t look away.
“I never thought about my mortality before,” I said, the admission slipping out before I could stop it. I shivered, not just from the cold.
“You can say it,” she said softly, facing me fully. “You need to say it.”
I swallowed hard, the words sticking in my throat. “I have cancer.” Saying it aloud made it real in a way that thinking it hadn’t.
“Piotr,” she breathed, her composure cracking.
“I should have gone to medical ages ago,” I said, my fingers gripping the edge of the bench until my knuckles turned white. “I knew something was wrong, but I thought—”
I didn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t put into words how stupid I’d been, how blindly optimistic that the symptoms would just go away.
In an instant, Ashley was no longer the composed, professional officer. She was simply a woman whose arms wrapped around me with surprising strength, pulling me against her as if she could shield me from the diagnosis with her body alone.
I tried to maintain control, to keep my emotions in check as I always had. But the gentle pressure of her hand on my back, the soft whisper of reassurance in my ear, broke something loose inside me. The tears came without warning, hot, angry, frightened tears that I couldn’t stop once they started.
I cried for my lost parents, who wouldn’t be here to help me through this. I cried for the career I might never have. I cried for the life I might not get to live. And through it all, Ashley held me, her own tears dampening my shoulder.
“I just... I just...” I struggled to form coherent words. “Why? Why now?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know, Piotr.”
A fresh wave of sobs shook me, and she tightened her hold, one hand cradling the back of my head as if I were something precious, something worth protecting.
Eventually, the storm passed, leaving me drained but somehow lighter. Ashley eased back, her hands still on my shoulders as she studied my face. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
“What can I do?” she asked, her eyes fixed on mine, determined and unwavering.
What I wanted to tell her was something else entirely. I couldn’t. Could I?
“Have you learned nothing these past months?” she probed.
I thought about everything we’d shared—the late nights in the lab, the breakthroughs and setbacks with Doli, the quiet conversations and shared meals. But it was more than that. It was the way she’d come to look for me, to expect me, to make space for me in her life. It was the way her rare smiles had become more frequent when I was around, the way she’d begun to let her guard down, but only with me.
“God dammit,” she said, pulling back slightly as she saw the confusion still lingering in my expression. “All the late nights. Pulling all-nighters...” She searched my face. “Nothing?”
I was still trying to process what she meant when she leaned forward suddenly, her hand curling around the back of my neck as she pressed her lips to mine. The kiss was gentle but unmistakably purposeful, filled with a passion that took my breath away.
When she finally pulled back, I raised a finger to my lips, half-convinced I’d imagined it. But the taste of her vanilla lip balm lingered, undeniably real.
“Does that make it any easier to understand?” she asked, her cheeks flushed.
I swallowed hard, overwhelmingly aware of her closeness, the minty scent of her breath, the faint notes of her perfume. My heart hammered in my chest, a reminder that I was still very much alive, still capable of feeling something beyond fear and despair.
“Easier? No,” I admitted.
She leaned into me, placing her forehead to mine. “Wrong time, wrong place,” she murmured.
“Will you stay with me?” I asked her. “I don’t want to be alone?”
“Of course I will,” she stood and gently pulled me to my feet.