Page 4 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol. 1
“I don't know, man. I didn't talk to a Confed pilot to find out. I just swiped the skates and sold them back to you”.
“But how do I do now?” he grumbles, disappointed.
“Luckily for you, Prick, I've got a set of four spare landing gear,” I reply, trying to soothe him.
“Rick! Not Prick! My name is Rick! And how much is all this going to cost me?”
“Look, since you're a friend and had an issue with the previous pads, even though you'll agree it's not my responsibility, I'll offer you a deal. The pads in exchange for nutrition bars, chocolate, powdered eggs, and information.”
“Nutrition bars, okay. Same for the powdered eggs. Chocolate, we'll see, it's not cheap. And what kind of information do you want?”
“The kind about where the next big illicit market is happening. As a Human and a long-time member of the Coalition, I'm sure you have access to way more good tips than I do.”
The Coalition is made up of all kinds of races from different planets, so I'm used to meeting all sorts of people, but I'm the only Asgarnian on record so far. With my pointed ears and purple eyes, it's hard to hide what makes me, well, unique. I'm pretty well integrated, but there's still a certain mistrust of me. It's especially weird since they've been trying to find out where my home planet is, probably to steal something there. I told them I didn't know, that I'd been kidnapped by a smuggler, that I'd killed him, taken over his ship, and joined the Coalition as an active member. They didn't look into it much further because my story seemed believable.
I'm pretty sure Rick knows more than I do.
“Of course I know things,” he immediately boasts, puffing out his chest. “But that depends on what you're looking for. I don't think you're involved in the slave trade...”
“Clearly not, but you never know when I might find something to offer myself!” I reply, even though the traffic he's talking about is making me nauseous.
“I'll offer you two months' worth of nutrition bars, ten pounds of powdered eggs, one pound of chocolate, and the coordinates for the next slave market.”
“Three months of nutrition bars,” I counter immediately, “and twenty-two pounds of eggs. Ten pounds of chocolate, one for each landing pad, plus the information I need!”
“Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what chocolate costs in the galaxy? Five pounds and I'll agree to the rest, that's my final offer!” he declares with determination.
“Prick, I have to say, you're really a top-notch negotiator. Deal!” I tell him with a big smile and a firm handshake.
“Rick! Not Prick.” He growls one last time.
An hour later, I set sail for new horizons, with a stock of good-quality bars and enough chocolate to last a few months.
Chapter 2.
Ileana, age 12, 5120 of Polaris year.
With my throat tight from behind the airlock door, I listen closely to the quiet conversation between Mohandas, the administrator, and Mom.
“Chandra, think about it before you turn this down. Staying on this base in the middle of space with two little girls to take care of, one of whom is really sick, is a huge responsibility. Now that your husband has passed away, it would make more sense to repatriate you to one of the terraformed worlds. I'll get us all moved over as soon as I can.”
I can hear Mom sniffling softly. Her breathing's ragged. I'd like to join her and hold her hand to comfort her. But that's a grown-up topic, and Dad always said we should wait until the grown-ups had finished.
Mom always leaves the door to our room open a bit so she can hear if there's any trouble. It's late, and my sister is already asleep on the bottom bunk. I can't sleep, though. That's why I've quietly climbed down from my top bunk to check on Mom. So, here I am, hiding behind the door, spying on their conversation.
“Mohandas, you don't understand”, she replies, sounding upset. “Roland may be gone, but this base has the best research options to fight the disease that tookhis life. There's no way I'm giving up the research that could save my daughter. Prianka is all I have left, and she's suffering from the same disease as her father!”
“No, Chandra,” he replies softly. “You're responsible for two little girls now. Ileana is your daughter too, since you adopted her ten years ago. You've got to think of her, too.”
“Yeah, I think about her a lot. They're both my darling daughters. But Ileana is a preteen, and she's got her whole life ahead of her. Prianka, though two years older, has already started her fateful countdown. So we're sticking around. You get what I'm saying, right? If there's any way I can find out here how to beat her disease, it's worth a try, don't you think?”
Mohandas lets out a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his sparse black hair. He's clearly not convinced.
I'm only twelve, but I'm pretty sharp. Mom and Dad have talked about this before, especially recently, when it became clear that the disease was taking over. He thought his wife might have to give up living on this isolated base in space. He'd even mentioned that if she ended up being alone, they could move somewhere else.
Roland and Bernard, my birth father, were both French and worked in the world's largest gene therapy research center in Paris. It was there that they met Chandra and Indira, my biological mom, who'd flown in straight from Bangalore, India, to join the research program.
All four were inseparable and deeply committed to overcoming several genetic conditions, such as osteogenesis imperfecta, Roland's syndrome, and Prianka's illness.
