Fractured Mind: The Complete Series

By Odette C. Bell

The complete Fractured Mind series. Follow Sarah and Karax fighting to save Earth in this four-episode boxset.
Dreams are just dreams, but not to this maligned cadet. They’re real, and they hold the power to destroy Earth and beyond.
Everyone thinks Sarah’s mad – especially the strapping Lieutenant Karax. He wants her kicked out of the Academy. But Sarah holds the key to one of the most powerful technologies in the Milky Way. If Karax can't find out what's going on, Earth will fall. And if he can't find a way to save Sarah, he’ll lose her long before he’s ready.
...
Fractured Mind follows a cadet plagued with nightmares and a disparaging lieutenant fighting to save Earth from an alien plot. If you love your space operas with action, heart, and a splash of romance, grab Fractured Mind: The Complete Series today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series.
Fractured mind is the 5th Galactic Coalition Academy series. A sprawling, epic, and exciting sci-fi world where cadets become heroes and hearts are always won, each series can be read separately, so plunge in today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odette C. Bell
• Release date: Jan 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370218080

Book preview

Fractured Mind: The Complete Series

#5 From the Galactic Coalition Academy series

Odette C. Bell

Odette C Bell

www.odettecbell.com

Copyright

All characters in this publication are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Fractured Mind: The Complete Series

Copyright © 2017 Odette C Bell

Cover art stock photos licensed from Depositphotos.

Odette C Bell

www.odettecbell.com

Fractured Mind: The Complete Series Blurb

The complete Fractured Mind series. Follow Sarah and Karax fighting to save Earth in this four-episode boxset.

Dreams are just dreams, but not to this maligned cadet. They're real, and they hold the power to destroy Earth and beyond.

Everyone thinks Sarah's mad – especially the strapping Lieutenant Karax. He wants her kicked out of the Academy. But Sarah holds the key to one of the most powerful technologies in the Milky Way. If Karax can't find out what's going on, Earth will fall. And if he can't find a way to save Sarah, he'll lose her long before he's ready.

…

Fractured Mind follows a cadet plagued with nightmares and a disparaging lieutenant fighting to save Earth from an alien plot. If you love your space operas with action, heart, and a splash of romance, grab Fractured Mind: The Complete Series today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell boxset.

Fractured mind is the 5th Galactic Coalition Academy series. A sprawling, epic, and exciting sci-fi world where cadets become heroes and hearts are always won, each series can be read separately, so plunge in today.

Fractured Mind: The Complete Series

Title Page

Copyright

Blurb

Table of Contents

Fractured Mind Episode One

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Fractured Mind Episode Two

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Fractured Mind Episode Three

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Fractured Mind Episode Four

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Sample

Newsletter

About The Author

Reading Order

Guide

Front Matter

Start of Content

Back Matter

Fractured Mind Episode One

Chapter 1

She ran through the snow, her badly bleeding leg dragging through a drift.

Her breath was stuck half-way up her throat, every pressured exhalation sending a new wave of pain and nausea washing through her broken body.

She kept moving.

She couldn’t stop.

Above her, the twin suns of the planet slowly slipped behind the horizon. The purple and gold dusk shimmering in the star-studded sky quickly gave way to a dark night.

She pushed up a rise, foot catching on a rock hidden under the thick white blanket of snow. She shunted forward and had to shove her hands out to break her fall. Her face slammed against the snow, and she sucked in a breath of powder. Choking and spluttering, a few droplets of bright red blood splattering over the drift, she shoved to her feet and powered on.

Every few seconds, she checked behind her. Aching neck muscles sending spinning shafts of pain spiraling into her head, she ignored her agony and scanned the now dark horizon.

Dusk did not last on this planet.

Night would.

… She couldn’t see it.

Oh god, she couldn’t discern it against the never-ending mountains of white.

By now, she was so cold she couldn’t feel her legs anymore, only the pain snaking up from the bad break in her left femur.

How she could still walk, let alone run, she didn’t know.

She couldn’t stop, though.

Stop, and that thing would tear her limb-from-limb, bone-from-bone, cell-from-cell.

She snapped her head around, every breath like a fire burning in her chest. A diffuse tingling sensation had pushed down her chest and sunk deep into her stomach.

Clutching a hand over her middle, the ripped fabric of her snow jacket trailing over her wrist, she indulged in closing her eyes.

… Shit. She could hear it now.

As she shifted up a rise and paused, she picked up its even footfall.

Not hurried, not frantic.

Even. Steady. Always coming toward her.

Fear pumped through her blood, ricocheting around her mind like a mag bullet.

She shook her head desperately, several strands of bloody, sweaty, icy hair sticking to her flushed cheeks and neck.

Come on, she begged herself with another choked wheeze.

She snapped her head forward and stared down at the drift.

It was steep, but she had no choice. She threw herself down it, her boots scampering through the fine snow. It was a battle to keep her balance. Her arms flailed at her sides as her boots sunk further into the drift with every treacherous step.

More and more blood oozed from the injury to her left leg. It splattered over the snow, sinking a few millimeters down before it was robbed of its natural warmth and frozen – like everything else on this hell hole of a planet.

Just as she heard its methodical footfall ascend the rise behind her, she stumbled. Again her foot snagged on something. This time, she couldn’t regain her balance.

She fell to the side, her right arm plunging through the drift up to her elbow.

Though she madly tried to clutch onto something – anything – to slow her rapid descent, she couldn’t.

She started to roll, her body tumbling down the hill with all the grace and speed of a boulder free-falling down a cliff.

Just as her heart threatened to slam out of her chest and plunge into the frozen snow, she reached the bottom of the rise.

For a second, she did nothing. She lay there, face pressed up against a sheet of ice, one wide eye pressing further open as she realized two things.

She was still alive.

And it was still after her.

She could hear the creaking of its joints, the pneumatic hiss of its breath.

Oh god, she cried, tears streaking down her cheeks as she screwed her eyes tightly shut.

Though her whole body felt like it was little more than a broken pane of glass, she grunted and somehow found the strength to push up. Her elbows shook as they tried to position her weight.

But she did it.

She staggered to her feet, more blood splattering from her wound and flicking over the white-blue snow and ice.

Clutching a hand on her stomach and groaning, she twisted her head all the way around and stared with wide eyes at the top of the rise.

She saw it.

The night sky was so clear she could see the colored swathe of gas clouds studded with constellations beyond.

That brilliant light was enough to outline her pursuer.

Large, white metal body glinting, it inclined its head toward her.

Then it moved.

Violent fear exploded in her gut, sending a spike of adrenaline striking her body like a flame thrown onto a bed of dry wood.

She found the last of her strength and powered to her feet.

She twisted and sprinted forward.

She ignored every stabbing pain, every wave of nausea.

She locked her gaze on the horizon until she could see it pulling up in the distance.

A shadow against the reflective snow and ice.

The facility.

She would reach it. Then she’d find a weapon.

And then Sarah Sinclair would kill the hunter.

…

Cadet Sarah Sinclair

She rocketed awake as if someone had attached a cruiser to her mind and pulled her out of sleep with all the speed of light.

It took her too long to realize she was in bed. In her quarters. In the Academy grounds on Earth.

Her hands were shaking, her body convulsing as sweat coated her brow and trailed down her back.

Her pillow and covers were a tangled mess on the ground.

At some point, she’d knocked most of the paraphernalia off her desk. Her lamp was broken, and her WD had popped its case.

… It was… it was a dream. She clutched a hand to her chest and let her sweaty fingers anchor against her rumpled PJ top.

She couldn’t calm her breathing. It raked through her throat, just like it had in her dream.

She started to shake her head. She even closed her eyes.

A mistake.

As soon as she did, the vestiges of her nightmare climbed back into her consciousness. She saw vivid flashes of the snow below her, of her bright-red blood slicking down her body.

Instinctively she grabbed a hand to her left leg.

… It felt stiff.

But as she pushed her searching fingers into the muscle, she couldn’t find a serious injury.

Just to convince herself, she ducked her head down, rolled up her trousers, and stared at her flesh.

… Nothing.

No hole from a blaster.

Just her leg.

She clutched her face, her sweaty, shaking fingers dragging and digging over her skin. Her hair was tangled over her face and shoulders, so knotted it felt like a helmet.

A second later, an alarm blared from her wall unit on the far side of the room.

It was so sudden and unexpected, she screamed.

You will be late for class unless you leave in the next five minutes, the programmed computer voice informed her in a toneless chirp.

… Class, she repeated with an empty tone.

Today, you will have engineering in the morning, followed by combat training in the afternoon, the computer informed her, erroneously thinking she’d asked a question.

… She couldn’t push away her dream and snap back to reality.

It seemed locked in her body. She could feel the desperation still pumping in her heart, the fear locking her limbs, the blood slicking down her leg.

With a reverberating sigh, she clenched a shaking hand on her bed and pushed to her feet.

Instantly she had to shove a hand out and lock it on the wall to steady herself.

She hunched her shoulders, rounded her back, dropped her head, closed her eyes, and tried to wake up.

The computer beeped again, startling her so badly she jolted, collected her mess of blankets and pillows, and fell over.

Her left knee bashed into the floor, knocking against the lamp.

The sharp metal base easily cut through the thin fabric of her PJ bottoms and sliced through the flesh above her knee.

She stared at the injury in shock, mesmerized by the blood blossoming over her light blue trousers.

Before she could stare at it for the next several minutes, her body still locked with the memory of her dream, her intercom beeped.

You getting ready or what? You can’t afford to be late anymore, her roommate said over the intercom.

Sarah didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Instead, she shook her head and tried, but failed, to wake up.

… Sarah, you okay in there?

When Sarah didn’t answer for a second time, her door beeped and opened.

In strode her roommate and best friend, Nora. She took one look at Sarah’s disheveled room, then locked her gaze on Sarah’s injury.

Rather than lurch down and check Sarah’s cut, Nora pressed her hands around her middle and shook her head. Another nightmare?

Sarah managed a nod.

Nora sighed. You should get that cut checked out before class. It looks pretty deep. Nora disappeared out into the main room beyond Sarah’s bedroom. A few seconds later, Nora came back with a medkit. She threw it at Sarah.

Sarah tried to catch it, but she was too slow, and the kit bounced off her chest and fell against her bleeding leg.

Nora sighed heavily. Come on, Sarah, snap out of it.

Sorry, Sarah said in a small voice as she hesitantly plucked up the kit, unlocked it, and began rifling through the contents. She tried extremely hard to hide the shake in her hands as she clasped hold of a vial of spray-on-skin.

Nora saw it and took it as a reason to shake her head once more. You didn’t take your meds last night, did you? In fact, you haven’t been taking them all week. Believe it or not, I can hear when you’re thrashing in your sleep. Even these double reinforced doors aren’t enough to dampen that cacophony. Nora reached out and rapped her knuckles against the wall. Just do us a favor – do what the doctors keep telling you to do. Take your medication. It will suppress your dreams.

Nora turned and walked out the door.

Just before the doors closed behind her, she appeared to change her mind.

She strode back in, leaned down, plucked the spray-on-skin from Sarah, and helped her apply it.

When she was done, Nora pushed to her feet and offered Sarah a hand. Sorry to be so hard on you, kid, but—

But? Sarah looked up at her.

Never mind, Nora insisted as she pushed forward, obviously tired of waiting, and plucked Sarah’s hand up.

Nora was strong and agile, and it wasn’t a trial to pull Sarah to her feet.

Okay, now get to the med bay, and I’ll cover for you in class. But whatever you do, be back in time for combat training. You can’t afford to put Lieutenant Karax offside anymore. Not considering what you said to him last time. Nora sighed heavily.

Sarah couldn’t help but wince.

Now she was standing, her cut semi-healed, and her best friend at her side, her dream was starting to fade.

Her dream.

No.

That’s what other people called it.

Sarah knew they weren’t dreams.

They were too real, too tangible. When she was experiencing them, they felt like reality. Like she was walking through some distant memory.

Maybe Nora could somehow guess what Sarah was thinking, because she leaned in close and shook her head, a warning look playing in her gaze. Sarah, no. They’re dreams. You’re getting past this, remember? You’ve been going to a counselor for half a year now. You know they’re dreams. Right? Nora challenged.

Sarah looked at her best friend.

There was only one thing she could say, even if it was a lie. So she gave a stiff nod, hooking her messy hair behind her ears as she did. Yeah, they’re dreams, she said in a dead, far-off voice. As soon as she said it, she winced. A violent, visceral memory of the hunt slammed into her mind.

She may not know much about the context of her dream – who was chasing her, where she was, how she’d gotten there. But she knew one thing.

It was called the hunt. And she was the quarry being hunted.

She gave a cold shiver as a dark, sick feeling pushed through her gut.

Rather than clutch a hand on her stomach and double over, she tried for a smile.

Nora let out a sharp chuckle. You’re not going to win any friends with a smile like that.

I don’t need other friends – I’ve got you, right?

Nora didn’t answer. She moved toward the door, pulling her gaze off Sarah and locking it on the metal. Get dressed and get to the med bay. I’ll see you in class. With that, she walked through the door, and it closed behind her.

There’d been a time when Nora had stood by her side relentlessly. Whenever anyone had made fun of Sarah’s mad assertions about her dreams, Nora had been there.

But over the past few years, something had changed.

Nora was growing more distant every day.

Fair enough. She was sick of Sarah’s stupid stories, wasn’t she? She was sick of the fact she had to keep defending Sarah from the other cadets at the Academy, even from the teaching staff.

No one believed there was anything wrong with Sarah – other than her mind.

And that could be fixed with medication and counseling. If only Sarah would stick to her regime, her dreams would disappear and she’d finally become normal.

… Except she wouldn’t become normal. She knew for a fact the dreams would not disappear, no matter how many drugs the med staff pumped into her.

They weren’t dreams. They were something more.

She shivered instinctively, drawing a deep calming breath into her chest as she twisted on her foot to stare out of the window behind her bed.

It showed a view of the accommodation block next to her own. No ocean, no sprawling Academy grounds. She wasn’t important enough for that.

Heck, if Sarah didn’t stop insisting she was going through… something, she’d likely be kicked out of the Academy.

The threat was already on the table – either Sarah properly engaged with her counselor and took her medication, or she would be out on her ear.

No one wanted an unstable ensign aboard a Coalition ship.

Rather than madly dress and brush her hair, Sarah slowly gathered together the contents of the medkit and neatly packed them away. She methodically picked up her lamp, made her bed, and plucked up her wrist device – her WD.

She snatched up the metal back and clicked it into place. Then, with a thoughtful sigh, she hooked the device over her wrist.

Slowly she dressed, finally running a brush through her unruly hair.

Once she was done, she stopped and stared at herself in the mirror.

She was slightly larger than normal size. She had an athletic body, brown eyes, and attractive chestnut-colored hair that ran down to the middle of her back.

She kept staring at herself as she looped her hair into a ponytail, a few strands cutting over her eyes.

She watched her reflection as she took one deep breath after another.

She was attractive. She knew that. And considering her athletic physique, she should be good at combat.

But Sarah was abysmal in combat, and despite her looks, had only one single friend.

Maybe that’s what irritated people so much about her – they thought she was capable of so much more.

Her first week at the Academy, she’d been invited into E Club.

She’d never got past the application phase – as soon as everyone had found out about her little mental problems, they’d ditched her.

Why not? She believed she was somehow transported to a snowy planet every night to fight some strange creature.

Sometimes she’d make it into the facility. Sometimes she’d find a weapon and start fighting back.

But every time – to everyone else – it was nothing more than a dream.

There was a name for people like her – spacecondriachs.

Disparaging and belittling, it was used to refer to people who made up wild reasons to explain quite normal medical conditions. You know, the kind of weirdos who think they get abducted by aliens every time they black out for a few minutes after drinking themselves stupid.

Spacecondriachs had a constellation of mental issues, according to the experts. From low self-esteem to a desperate need for attention.

Sarah had it all.

Apparently.

She curled her hands into fists and took a sharp step away from the mirror.

A part of her did have low self-esteem. She couldn’t help but feel she was useless when everyone kept repeating that to her – from the medical staff, to the other cadets, to the teachers.

They wanted her to snap out of it and live up to her potential.

Sarah curled a hand into a fist and struck the wall next to her mirror.

Though pain sank hard into her hand and wrist, she didn’t react.

She could compartmentalize pain, a part of her reminded herself.

She could push past any obstacle, that same part reminded her.

She could endure any hardship – whether it be a mad dash through the snow or social pressure.

She was a true survivor.

She let her hand drop and closed her eyes, trying to catch the elusive voice that kept saying that.

… She couldn’t.

She opened her eyes and let out a frustrated grunt.

Sarah knew she was different, but she wasn’t a spacecondriach. There was an aspect of her – a strong survivor who could endure anything, who was so powerful she could obliterate the hunter from her dreams.

Others didn’t see that part.

But it was there.

It’s what gave her the strength to turn, press a smile on her face, and head out of her apartment.

As she smiled, she felt her natural exuberance return. Despite everything that was wrong with her, she tried to combat it all with good humor.

It didn’t always work. In fact, it made people think she was madder.

She didn’t care.

She kept that smile on her face until she made it across the Academy grounds to the med bay.

As soon as she walked through the large white doors, her mood changed.

It cost all her effort to keep her smile locked on her lips.

The doctor in charge saw her and let out a loud and very obvious sigh. What now? Doctor Wallace asked. He was half human, half Bakarian.

I, ah, injured my knee, she said in a quiet, conciliatory tone as she shifted toward a medical bed.

Don’t sit there, Wallace huffed. That’s for patients.

Sarah didn’t react.

She was a patient, right? Though she’d applied the spray-on-skin, she hadn’t done a good enough job, and she could already feel blood slicking through her uniform.

Wallace would be able to see the blood dripping down her leg.

But that still didn’t make her a patient.

Wallace gestured her forward. Without a word to her, he plucked a medical scanner off a floating tray, started manipulating the controls, and waved it near her.

She stood in the middle of the room, patients and staff walking around her – all watching her.

She wasn’t even allowed the dignity to sit down.

… Some part of her wanted to react to that. A part of her wanted to point out to Wallace he was being a callous asshole. Even if he did think Sarah was a spacecondriach, he had a duty of care.

But no matter how much she wanted to snap, she didn’t.

Because Sarah didn’t snap.

Sarah kept her true feelings hidden behind a smile.

Wallace didn’t say a word to her as he injected something into her neck and strapped a device around her leg. This will fix the nerve damage.

So there’s nerve damage, then?

Of course there’s nerve damage – you sliced a good inch into your leg. I’m not even going to ask how you did it, he said distractedly as he turned and began to walk away, Just keep it on for the rest of the day. And don’t exert yourself.

Will you make a note of that on my file? I have combat class this afternoon.

Wallace had already walked away.

Never mind, she muttered under her breath.

She ignored all the stares she got as she walked through the med bay and headed toward the main doors.

As she reached them, they opened.

In strode Lieutenant Karax.

Broad, strapping, and handsome, he instantly drew attention as he marched in.

Dread plunged through Sarah’s gut, and she darted to the side.

Before she realized what she was doing, she bumped into a med tech. They were carrying a tray of vials, and Sarah slammed into their elbow, upending the vials and sending them scattering over the floor.

Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Sarah leaned down to help them.

The med tech gave her a dark look. Just leave it.

Sarah’s stomach sank even further as she stood.

When she turned, Karax was right behind her.

She had to suck in a breath as she looked up into his attractive face. It wasn’t his looks that sucked her breath away – it was the dark promise playing in his deep brown eyes. It matched the dark chocolate hue of his skin, drawing you deeper into that penetrating stare.

What are you doing, cadet? Making trouble again? There was real vehemence behind his words.

And she knew why.

Karax was from the colony worlds along the Barbarian-Coalition border.

According to his file and the trillion stories repeating around campus about him, he’d had to fight to survive. As a teenager, he’d fought off wave after wave of Barbarian attacks, losing most of his family in the process.

He had real battle scars.

Sarah, she only thought she did.

It had all come to a head when Lieutenant Karax had been assigned to her class to give the new wave of Academy cadets true survival training as the top brass were calling it. In these trying times, the Coalition had to ensure their cadets were battle-ready before sending them out into space.

Lieutenant Karax was one of the best, precisely because he’d survived so much.

During one training session, Sarah had mentioned her past. The one she experienced in her dreams every night.

It was so real to her – how could it not be her past? It didn’t matter that it didn’t fit in with her biographical history – it was real.

Lieutenant Karax had taken it as an insult.

How could someone pretend to have survived such slaughter? How could someone dare trivialize such a thing?

You want to stop wasting everyone’s time? he snapped, voice a harsh hiss.

It reminded her of the hunter’s breath. From her dream, that thing always breathed with a pneumatic hush.

She shivered but hid it with a sniff. I wasn’t wasting everyone’s time, I was—

Excuse me? Are you talking back to me?

I cut my leg, she said in a tiny voice that could barely carry.

He gave an uncaring snort. What was it this time? You deliberately cut yourself to get out of more combat training? Or is it the attention you crave?

Sarah’s hands were clutched behind her back. One of her hands curled into a fist. A tight fist, one that sent a stiff reassurance sinking hard into her wrist and arm.

She kept staring at the ground, but what she really wanted to do was snap at him that he was a goddamn bully.

Instead, she nodded and shifted forward.

If you think that injury of yours is going to get you a free ticket out of my class, you’re mistaken. I expect you to show up. And this time, you will not fail. He turned and marched off.

Every eye was on her.

This was a show to them.

She clenched her teeth and walked out of the med bay.

No matter what she tried, she couldn’t unclench her hand.

Something deep inside her wanted to push against this injustice, wanted to fight back.

It always wanted to fight back.

But Cadet Sarah Sinclair kept her anger in check with reason.

For now.

Chapter 2

Lieutenant Karax

He strode past Cadet Sinclair.

She got on his nerves more than anyone else in the entire Academy.

Why?

She never tried. She was too weak to take ownership of her condition, too weak to do anything about it.

He was determined to fail her in survival training – not because he was vindictive, but because it was the right thing to do.

No one would be able to rely on Cadet Sinclair if she ever graduated. And in these uncertain times, they couldn’t afford to graduate cadets until they could survive out there.

The Milky Way was more violent now. Every day a new skirmish broke out. Whether it was between the Barbarians or the Kore, or even deep within Coalition space.

Bottom line – it was too dangerous out there to vest responsibility in someone like Sinclair.

Especially not now. Not with the growing threat of the Ornax.

He straightened, his gut clenching like a fist. All it took was one thought about the Ornax to send his body into fight mode.

He felt the blood pump hard up his throat, his muscles contracting as he drew his teeth into a stiff line.

Doctor Wallace saw him striding forward and frowned. What is it, Lieutenant?

I need a checkup.

This is a first – I usually have to drag you in here.

I’m having pain, Karax admitted as he shifted his neck from side-to-side. He could feel his cybernetic implants sliding uncomfortably down his shoulders and into his spine.

Karax’s spine and most of his left shoulder had been replaced with durable robotic implants. But no matter how durable they were, they still had to be checked. Constantly. Karax put them through so much of a pounding, he was continually pulling them out of alignment.

Wallace raised an eyebrow as he plucked a scanner up. You must be in considerable pain if you’ve volunteered for a check-up.

Karax didn’t say anything.

Wallace let out a light sigh. There you go – you’ve done it again. Your left latissimus dorsi has pulled your 14th cybernetic vertebra out of alignment. Again. When I keep telling you to take it easy for a little, to let yourself heal, Wallace dropped his head down and stared at Karax meaningfully, I’m not doing it just because I like to repeat myself. Lieutenant Karax, you need to give your implants a chance to adjust.

No time, Karax said without pause. I have to complete this latest training regime. We’re getting slaughtered out there.

Wallace shifted his gaze surreptitiously over his shoulder to check if anyone was in earshot. You mean the Ornax?

It was a top-level secret. Not that it could stay that way for long. The Ornax were operating within Coalition space. A new impossible enemy that had seemingly come from nowhere and had pushed beyond Coalition borders with no reprieve. Though their numbers were small for now, and their incursions sporadic, it wouldn’t last.

This was the precursor to a proper invasion. The Ornax were just testing the waters to see how much resistance the Coalition could provide before they committed their forces to a full-on invasion.

… We all appreciate what you’re doing for us, Lieutenant. Wallace bowed his head low.

The uncharacteristic move brought a half-smile to Karax’s lips.

There were some at the Academy who thought Karax never smiled. They were wrong. Underneath the life of hardship and survival, he liked to have a good time. He enjoyed a laugh.

And that’s what made all this harder to accept.

Deep down, Karax knew he was never meant for this life.

It had chosen him, not the other way around.

I’ll work as quickly as I can – I heard you have a meeting with Admiral Forest later today, Wallace said conspiratorially.

Karax couldn’t help but laugh. You part of her spy ring? You always know what’s going on around here.

I’d love to profess that Forest has entrusted me with espionage duties, but the reality is, I just hear a lot. People are remarkably chatty when you’ve got their life in your hands.

Well, you’re right. I do have a meeting with Forest. Karax let his fingers drag down his brow.

We’ll find a way to beat the Ornax. It’s early days, Lieutenant. The Coalition always finds a way.

Karax looked at Wallace as he worked. It was easy to see that the doctor genuinely believed what he was saying.

To him, the Coalition was unbeatable. They’d never fallen in the past, right? So didn’t that mean they’d last forever?

No. It did not.

If the Coalition wanted to survive these new tumultuous times, they’d have to learn to survive. Not flourish. Survive.

By any means possible.

One look around at the gentrified Academy, and it was clear there would be a steep learning curve.

There was an ever-growing gap between what the Coalition wanted to do and what they had to do to ensure their continued existence.

That gap was typified no better than in Cadet Sinclair.

She should have been turfed from day one.

She was still here. Why? Because someone out there had the erroneous belief she could pull through her troubles.

She didn’t want to.

And that was the bottom line.

You’ve gone all sullen and somber, Lieutenant. I’ll repeat once more, the Coalition will beat the Ornax. We defeated the lost star – given time, we’ll overcome this obstacle, too. Anyhow, lie on your stomach, close your eyes, and think pleasant thoughts while I deliberately break a few of your mechanical vertebrae and access their internal mechanisms.

Sounds painful. Karax lay on the medical bed and nestled his head against his hands.

Sure is. But someone like you knows how to push past pain. Oh, and I’ll also half sedate you, which will help. You’ll find your mind wandering during this procedure. Don’t worry – it’s a side effect of the anesthetic I have to use. Sit back and enjoy the show. It’ll take an hour.

Wallace got to work.

As soon as he injected something into Karax’s neck, Karax felt a slow wave of unconsciousness shift through his mind.

It didn’t pull him down into sleep. Not fully.

A part of him was still aware of his body pressed against the cold medical bed. The rest wandered.

Which was a bad idea. Because whenever Karax’s mind wandered, it always returned to the same place.

His homeworld.

The invasions.

One after another, week after week – Barbarian raiding parties attacking his settlement relentlessly over a harrowing three-year period until finally they claimed the planet and pushed the settlers back.

Karax lost his whole family during the raids. One after another.

He… he’d survived.

He could see it now – the settlement around him, the stark brown and gray reclaimed cruisers that had been modified into habitable shelters.

They’d sat there, nestled in the verdant green grass as the trees and vines of the planet had massed around them.

The settlement had been situated at the foot of a hill. Behind had been a steep mountain Karax had played on with his brothers. If you climbed it, you’d see the greatest view in the galaxy – a massive mountainous valley dotted with crystal peaks, three silver-white moons constantly visible above the horizon.

He could still remember with perfect clarity standing on the edge of that cliff, wind blowing against his brown tunic, a smile pressing over his lips.

Then the Barbarians had come….

…

Lieutenant Karax, ten years ago, colony planets, border of Coalition space

Come on, Karax, get your ass back to camp. We can’t stay up here forever, Karax’s brother called.

Karax didn’t move. He couldn’t. That view sucked him in. It wrapped its hands around his gaze and drew it forward as he stared at each crystal peak in turn.

His attention inevitably drifted toward the three moons in the sky. They stood sentinel over the planet, like three guards watching her from space.

Come on, his brother said, terse voice filtering up from further down the hill.

Reluctantly Karax pushed back, ripped his mesmerized gaze from the moons, and trudged away.

As soon as his reclaimed leather boots sunk through the soft inch-high grass, his gut trembled.

Far in the distance, he swore he could hear something.

Something out of place.

Kiros? Kiros? You there? he shouted.

He didn’t know why, but a flare of fear snagged his heart.

He shifted forward, boots crumpling the lush grass. His head swung from side-to-side as he scanned for his older brother. Kiros?

No reply.

Then he heard it, that odd rumble shaking through the hills.

Cruiser engines.

He stared at the topaz-blue sky just as three cruisers shot past the mountain peak, heading down to the settlement below.

At first, he thought they were suppliers.

They weren’t.

The ships were ramshackle, cobbled-together, brown and black hull plating interspersed with pulser turrets and rotating cannon shafts.

Kiros! He pitched forward, heart pounding in his chest as he shunted into a sprint.

He flew down the grassy incline.

Kiros!

No reply.

It was a good 30-minute trek to the settlement below.

Karax lost all track of time as he flew down the peak, sprinting so fast over the grass, the tread of his hand-me-down boots dug it up, clumps of dirt scattering around him.

He kept calling Kiros’ name, kept bellowing at his brother to reply.

Karax never made it to the settlement.

Halfway there, he came across a Barbarian warrior pushing through the undergrowth.

The guy was huge – easily three times Karax’s size.

He was also wearing armor. It covered his broad chest, his legs, even his arms and fists. Only his head was unadorned. It meant Karax could see the warrior’s yellowed, pinprick eyes as they focused on him.

The Barbarian pulled back its red lips to reveal its slobbery tusks.

It didn’t say a word. It reached for the massive carved knife held in the holster by its side.

Karax’s mind stopped, frozen still with fear.

The Barbarian laughed, twisted the knife around in its grip, and threw it at Karax.

At that exact moment, Kiros shot through the undergrowth, wrapped an arm around Karax, and pushed him out of the way.

The blade sank into Kiros’ back. It was so long and thrown with such force that the tip of the blade sliced right through Kiros’ chest and snagged Karax’s tunic.

Karax screamed. One long, desperate, terrified bellow that tore from his throat as his brother died in his arms.

The Barbarian didn’t waste any time. It pushed toward Karax, a smile curling around its fat, veiny lips.

Karax waited to be killed, his mind crawling to a stop as his brother’s body twitched.

The Barbarian reached him and loomed above him like a sudden plume of smoke that had blocked out the sun.

Without a word, it leaned down and plucked the blade from Kiros’ back.

The sound of it ripping through Kiros’ muscle and bones was the most sickening thing Karax had ever heard.

The Barbarian considered Karax for one more second, then lurched toward his throat—

…

Lieutenant Karax

Karax awoke with a snap, sweaty fingers scrabbling over the edge of his medical bed.

Whoa, someone locked a firm hand on his back, Relax there, Lieutenant. It seems you had a bad reaction to that anesthetic. It’s okay now. It’s all okay.

Karax concentrated on Wallace’s voice, letting it pull him back to reality.

With one final chest-punching sigh, he settled his mind.

And his heart.

… You okay there, Lieutenant?

Yeah. Karax pushed up. He glanced down to see most of his front was covered in sweat.

Wallace’s gaze flashed with concern. Sorry about that – seems you’re one of the 1 in 1,000,000 who can’t tolerate that kind of anesthetic. I’ve given you something to flush it from your system. You’ll be alright soon.

Karax responded by jumping up and standing.

Wallace put out a hand.

Karax didn’t need it.

With another grounding breath, Karax tugged down his tunic, neatening it as best as he could, and nodded. I feel fine now, doctor. He experimentally shifted his shoulders out and arched his back. Have you fixed my spine?

Kind of. It’ll need more work. I want you back in here tomorrow. You got that?

Karax didn’t say anything as he tried to surreptitiously wipe the sweat from his brow.

You want to do your job, Lieutenant, then you have to look after yourself. It’s not a luxury – it’s a requirement. It’s also an order, Wallace said curtly, gaze flashing.

Fine. But I probably won’t be able to make it tomorrow. That’s when the summit’s booked.

Wallace’s once direct stare flared with curiosity. Summit?

Karax laughed at himself as he shook his head. Ha, I guess you’re right, doc – your patients do tell you too much. I shouldn’t have mentioned that. I trust you’ll be discreet about it.

It depends on what it’s about. This isn’t to do with the Ornax, is it?

Karax chose not to answer. He did, however, hold the doctor’s gaze.

Eventually, Wallace nodded, shifted to the side, and gestured toward the door. You’ll be fine for the next few days, Lieutenant. But you will come and see me after that.

Karax snapped a mock salute. He walked out of the room with a hurried, Thanks, doc.

The truth was, he wouldn’t have the time to come back in a few days.

Time was a resource rapidly slipping through Karax’s fingers.

Even as he thought that, his heart quickened.

His pace quickened, too.

He pushed into a half-jog as he made it through the med bay and out into the main grounds.

He couldn’t be late for his meeting with the Admiral. Too much was riding on this.

As he flew across the main grassy area that separated the primary buildings of the Academy, he found his gaze flicking to the side and locking on someone.

Out of the sea of cadets and commissioned officers out on the grass, only one person could catch his attention.

Cadet Sinclair.

She was walking – not toward the Academy main buildings, but away from them.

Presumably back to her apartment.

She had her head tipped back as she stared at the sky, an odd, distant expression on her face.

It hardened his resolve.

If she dodged his class once more, she’d be out on her ear.

Karax just needed one good reason to kick her out.

Deliberately cutting class may not see her kicked out, but it would worsen her already appalling record.

So, despite the fact it was quicker to head up through the center of the campus, he found himself following her.

…

Cadet Sarah Sinclair

She shouldn’t be doing this. But she was.

And a part of her just didn’t care.

A part of her just couldn’t put up with the Academy anymore.

When she’d first joined, she’d been filled with so much hope. So much potential.

Then the dreams had started, and….

She sighed and shook her head.

Instinctively she clutched a hand on her upper left shoulder.

Her fingers hovered around a very specific spot – just at the nape of her neck.

The skin was always red, always irritated, nail tracks permanently etched into it.

She couldn’t count the number of times she’d woken up in the middle of the night scratching and clutching at it.

She… it sounded crazy, but she knew something was buried just underneath her flesh.

She’d told the doctors a few times. They could find nothing.

She shivered as she shoved her fingers harder into her skin.

She could feel it – that thing – just underneath the surface.

A cold, tight sensation shifted hard through her shoulders, and she took a quick gasp.

Sometimes she felt as if someone was walking over her grave.

It felt… it felt like she was dead, and this was all just a dream. The real her – she was somewhere else.

Sarah was nothing more than a walking talking corpse.

She’d never shared these particular thoughts with anyone – she didn’t need to give the doctors any more reasons to think she was crazy.

Without realizing it, Sarah found herself taking a circuitous, relatively secluded route back to her apartment block.

Though mostly she could ignore people’s stares – even the muttered comments – today her natural resilience was diminished, flushed away by the vestiges of her violent dream.

She just wanted to be alone.

She needed to curl up on her bed and fall asleep.

… And then what? Have another one of those dreams?

She caught herself just in time. They aren’t dreams.

They were memories. Or maybe she was somehow tapping into someone else’s consciousness. Maybe a part of her shifted through dimensions at night.

It sounded crazy – but something was happening to her.

She dropped her hand, noting a few flecks of blood under her nails.

The skin along the nape of her neck smarted, but she made no attempt to check on it.

There were times she wanted to take a knife to her neck and cut the object out.

As Sarah made her way forward, that cold dead feeling – the one that felt like someone was walking over her grave – grew worse.

She had to stop and suck in a reassuring breath. It couldn’t reassure her. It couldn’t stop the nerves that ignited in her gut.

That thing in her shoulder felt like it was on fire.

At the same time, her consciousness felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

She staggered to the side, clamping a hand against the wall beside her.

As she started to lose her balance, she walked her sweating fingers down the wall until she crumpled into a ball.

As soon as her eyes closed, she returned to the dream.

The ice planet opened up before her. Her limbs instantly froze with a cloying, digging, numbing sensation.

She hunched down, wrapping her shaking hands around her body, her gloved fingers squeaking over the waterproof fabric of her torn snow jacket.

As her body gradually grew accustomed to the sudden shock of appearing on this planet, she straightened.

She realized she’d made it to the facility.

Occasionally she made it this far.

There were weapons in here.

Trapped far within the cold gray walls were guns and knives.

She was standing in the cavernous doorway, wind whistling past, catching along the powdery drifts and gathering the snow into an impromptu blizzard.

She pulled up a hand and protected her eyes as she shifted through the doorway.

She had no idea what this facility was, but she guessed it was either an underground base or a mining operation.

The massive gate-like doorway led down into a long wide ice-covered metal tunnel.

It was treacherous. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d slipped on the icy tracks and broken a leg.

This time, she kept her balance as she spread her hands and walked down the tracks as fast as her boots would allow.

Behind, she heard the hunter.

Its footsteps sped up.

It knew – just like she did – that there were weapons in here.

Instantly Sarah threw herself forward. She slipped, but she controlled her fall, rolling and shifting onto her ass as she began to slide down the incline.

She used all her muscular control not to roll head over heels. Do that, and the ice would burn great tracks of her cheeks and forehead off.

Fortunately, her pants and jacket were sturdy enough to protect her from the friction, but they couldn’t stop a desperate scream shaking from her throat and echoing down the cavernous expanse.

She slid for a whole minute until she reached the bottom of the shaft. She rolled, back striking a hard metal crate.

Though it winded her and a few splatters of blood jumped from her mouth and dotted through the snow, she didn’t wait.

She forced her shaking body to stand as she locked her gloves on the side of the crate.

It was closed.

She yanked one glove off, forcing her rapidly freezing fingers against the ice-covered lid.

Instantly her fingers threatened to stick to the frozen metal.

She didn’t let them. She tore them back, not caring that she left a few layers of skin behind.

She dug her nails into the gap between the lid and the rest of the case. With a desperate groan, she managed to shift it back.

Her back twinged, her broken left leg shook and threatened to buckle – but she held on.

With a grating noise that echoed through the tunnel, she shoved the lid off.

It fell to the side, split the ice-covered floor, and struck the metal shaft below with a thunderous clang.

She dived into the crate, half jumping inside as her stomach pushed against the high edge and her feet kicked out behind her.

With her breath freezing into white puffs that pushed around her cheeks, she scrabbled through the contents of the case, looking for the combat knife she knew would be there.

Just as fear ricocheted through her sternum and down into her gut, her frozen fingers grasped it.

She plucked it up and fell to her knees as she twisted and spied the hunter.

It was already halfway down the shaft.

Her eyes bulged, the fear rising in her throat as she scooped up her glove, clutched the knife, and pushed into a sprint.

Her broken leg buckled a few times, and she fell to the ice-covered floor, cutting her cheek.

She always pushed herself up, always kept the knife out at a safe angle.

Once, she hadn’t been so lucky, and she’d sliced through her own throat as the knife had twisted in her grip.

She’d had just a few seconds to note the blood pouring from her neck before the hunter had caught up and finished the job.

Though Sarah knew she’d done all this before, it didn’t change the immediacy of the situation. Nor the reality.

So Sarah grunted through her pain, crammed her glove on, and flicked the combat knife into action.

It immediately jerked open, revealing a blade that theoretically would never go dull and could slice through most objects, even armor.

As she clutched the knife, her fear gave way to anger.

She wouldn’t run forever, as soon as she found stable ground, she would fight.

She was done being hunted….

…

Lieutenant Karax

He kept following her, even though reason and simple decency told him to turn around and head to the Admiral ASAP.

Reason and simple decency couldn’t win out when he was dealing with Sarah Sinclair.

He knew his hatred for her was way out of line.

He couldn’t control it. He couldn’t forgive her, either. She ran