Page 101 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol. 1
“I’m afraid not. We don’t have many of these advanced tools, and we prefer to keep them in this room. If you don’t need anything else, I’ll leave you here—other patients need my attention.”
“I understand. I’ll wait here,” I say, settling into a soft chair.
I must have dozed off, because I’m startled awake by a voice.
“Ileana? That’s you?” asks a young man with Asian features.
“Yes?”
“Bianca told me you were here. I’m Onorio. Akifumi said you might be able to help us sort through the people we intercepted,” he explains, speaking at lightning speed.
I glance at my arm—the indicator light is still red.
“I’d be happy to help, but Bianca insisted I stay here until the regeneration is complete. Are you Human?”
“No, I’m Polarien. I’ll wait until you’re mobile, then. In the meantime, can I ask you a few questions?” he says with a big smile.
“Of course—if it helps.”
“How many people do you think you saw or crossed paths with on Vagantu?”
“Oh… maybe forty? It’s hard to say.”
“I’ll take you to my workstation and show you photos of everyone we intercepted. You’ll just need to identify anyone you recognize—Coalition members or victims. Ah, the light just turned green! We’re good to go!”
This guy is full of energy and good humor—it’s kind of contagious.
He helps me remove the glove, and I’m relieved to see that there’s no trace left of the damage caused by those necrophagous slugs.
“See? Good as new!” Onorio exclaims cheerfully. “Come on, follow me!”
“Can we stop by to see my friend first? He’s in a pod…”
“Your Asgarnian friend? No need—he’ll be in there a while. You’ll see him afterward, don’t worry!” the Polarien promises, already leading me energetically toward his station.
We pass by a spacious cafeteria, one entire wall opening onto the vastness of space. Outside, ships of all shapes and sizes move in a graceful, chaotic dance. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many vessels in one place.
“Want a coffee or tea before we get to work?” my cheerful guide offers.
Immediately, I think of the plant that grew on MyFaS—the one that accompanied our quiet evenings…
“Would you happen to have biloa infusion?” I ask hesitantly.
A wide smile lights up Onorio’s face.
“We do! Which terraformed world are you from, if you don’t mind me asking? Only folks from the Jagas ever ask for that!” he adds with a knowing wink.
I can’t tell him MyFaS. Pherebos made it clear—only Akifumi knows they were ever there.
“Jaga-18,” I say softly.
Onorio is already handing me the drink and selecting one for himself from the dispenser.
“There we go. Now that we’re all set—let’s get to work!” he says brightly.
A few moments later, we enter a small room. Just a simple console, a digital wall, and two chairs.
“Let’s sit,” he says, taking the second seat. “I’ve already filtered out the people we found injured and locked in cages. They’re clearly victims. We’re treating them and will either resettle them on a terraformed world or return them to their home planets, if they prefer. It’s a long, careful process. I’d rather take my time than accidentally release someone responsible for enslaving hundreds.”
