Page 55 of The Last Hope
With a passing hush, the courtyard goes eerily still. All eyes descend to the stone-carved woman.
“What’s happenin’?” Mykal whispers to us.
Court is unblinking. “I’m unsure.”
The statue suddenly glints and flickers out, and the woman in all her glory justvanishes.Leaving behind the fountain’s base, petals floating in a tiny pool.
“Knew it was a fake,” Mykal whispers proudly. “Was too pretty-looking to be real.”
“It’s a hologram,” Court murmurs.
One that can produce mist and sound. And soon, a new image replaces the stone-carved woman, light beaming up from the fountain’s base. Static crackles the picture. Less lifelike, the projection resembles a three-dimensional film and shows a starcraft viewing bay—afamiliarviewing bay.
TheRomulus.
Where we once stood against a long metal railing. Where we once glanced out the enormous window that oversaw the galaxy. Where we were told we’re human.
Court stands more upright.
Mykal grinds his toothpick, all three of us recognizing the location and the cadets in sleek burgundy uniforms. Hands cupped out in front, the image halts on the young brassy-haired commander.
Theron and his brisk authority. He snaps his fingers and the picture zooms on his intimidating face: slanted forehead, hooked nose, and dark eyes lost within black pupils.
Lucretzia’s crew sucks in apprehensive breaths, others huff out angrily. Strain wrenching the air.
“Humans,” Commander Theron says, voice unreadable. “We’re broadcasting live from theRomulus.To remind you that we will take what is rightfully ours. Andola belongs to Saltarians, and nothing will stand in our way. Not your starcrafts, not your armor, and not your leaders.”
He snaps.
The hologram swerves, and theLucretziacrew jolts, everyone rousing like they’ve been rattled awake from a deep stupor. Voices and small cries in the courtyard intensify like a sickening chorus.
I can’t look away.
Two women and one man are blindfolded, gagged, and kneeling on theRomulusviewing bay. All three seem young from my vantage point. Wrists cuffed and an iron collar locked around their throats, bronze armor still protecting their chests, they breathe raggedly but stay calm. And motionless.
None of them yank at their chains.
None of them scream through their gags.
On their breastplates, I can read the symbol using the EI. Tapping the disc once, I realize that the letterAstands on five lines.
The admirals of the Earthen Fleet.
I’m so confused. Looking to theLucretziacrew to the C-Jays behind me toStork—I expect a readiness, a fight to go rescue their leaders. But no one moves.
Stork chugs liquor to the bottom of the bottle. Dulling a pain in his eyes.
I lean forward. Watching the admirals do nothing, not even as Theron loads a gun, and I think,run.
Stand.
Stand.
Run.
“Look away.”
It takes me a second to realize that Stork is speaking to me, Court, and Mykal.
