Kel


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    <td style="width: 48.8867%; text-align: center">Date</td>


    <td style="width: 48.8867%; text-align: center">July 28, 2116</td>


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    <td style="width: 48.8867%; text-align: center">Time</td>


    <td style="width: 48.8867%; text-align: center">2:36 p.m.</td>


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    <td style="width: 48.8867%; text-align: center">Location</td>


    <td style="width: 48.8867%; text-align: center">The Coeus</td>


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    Hacking into the heart of the records stolen from the Dolos had not taken very long.


    Sorting through the disjointed, unorganized mess Kel found past the last firewall had taken far longer.


    Frankly, Vond should have been insulted at how comparatively little security had been placed upon his correspondences. Had they been passed through even half the encryptions Kel needed to break in order to simply view the Dolos’ resupply schedule, he likely would have been able to evade her completely.


    Doubt flicked through her mind again at the alternative implications of that transparency, but she quickly pushed it aside.


    Vond could simply have been a sloppy agent. Or so low-level, his superiors truly did not care if he were caught.


    Those were far more likely scenarios than his innocence.


    Kel lay on her bed, and scanned through a fragment of the decrypted information on her tablet.


    Obviously it stood to reason that the supply route listed in the logs would no longer be in use after such an egregious security breach, however the locations of the rendezvous were alarming.


    Every single coordinate was within a few hours skip of her Colony.


    They were surrounded.


    Utterly.


    This was far worse than she had imagined. Her colony had clearly been overrun. She truly could be the only free Ember, let alone Phoenix, left in the universe.


    Kel picked up a ration bar from the small container she kept next to her bed. It was bland, boring chocolate again, but she needed to eat, if only to keep her strength up.


    She couldn’t stop working to prepare something better.


    Everyone was counting on her, and her alone.


    Every moment’s delay would likely cost lives.


    Though what fresh leads she might find to prevent that were alarmingly small.


    Kel would have thought the Coalition would boast of their conquest of her world, but oddly, there was a distinct lack of news coverage about the event.


    Quick checks of subspace signals taken while out on strategical skips far away from her warship revealed that the news of the week was focused on some propagandic “plague” on an alien world.


    That, and the latest Ambassadorial debate.


    Nothing about the Embers.


    Nothing about the Dolos.


    Not even a mention of her escape.


    Perhaps she had simply missed that news cycle. Kel had not dared venture out in her small shuttle until a full week had passed after her abduction of the doctor. She had never watched Coalition-based media regularly, however her educators had once explained to her its cyclical nature.


    Nothing kept a populace’s attention long in an empire as expansive as the Coalition’s.


    The universe was vast.


    With an astonishing amount of horrors available for the public’s view at any given time.


    Yes, it was fully possible that the news had simply moved on already, and Kel had missed her moment in the searchlight. That her face had been plastered over trillions of screens for days, but that other, greater horrors had already rendered that image a blur in the intergalactic consciousness.


    A naively optimistic part of Kel wanted to believe that the lack of public information about the invasion of her home meant it was not a popular action. We that to prove true, then perhaps by simply exposing the Coalition’s horrors, she could rally enough of its citizens to her cause to begin an uprising.


    But the far more practical, tactical majority of her mind knew that was a move containing far too much risk, with far too much faith in people that couldn’t possibly make a true difference.


    Better to continue her investigations for the moment, and quietly track down and liberate as many Embers as she could.


    It would be an immeasurably simpler feat with even a handful of other Phoenixi by her side.


    Which made finding them, once again, her top priority.


    Unfortunately leads in that area, despite the taunts she liked to levy against her captive in the hopes of a slip, were...non-existent.


    If she could pinpoint which Entangled frequencies were most prevalent in Coalition subterfuge, then she could safely sync the Coeus’ communications system to those frequencies. Their very nature would prevent her discovery.


    But that worked both ways. She had not had the luxury of time to dissect the Dolos’ communications panel, only the time to copy its data and create her viruses for that pitiful Nightingale. Without such a deep dissection, she had no way to know which of the infinite entanglement patterns they had used for such secure information.


    In an ideal world, she could instead simply trace a subspace signal from one of the Dolos’ logs back to its source. But she did not dare sync the subspace signals received on the Dolos to her Coeus itself, as they would raise the risk of her detection far too high.


    Even her tracing virus on the Nightingale was an enormous risk. Not one she believed those bleeding hearts would discover, but a risk nonetheless.


    And going out in her own small skipper, although a solution to that concern, also meant she might have to be in the shuttle for days, if not weeks, in order to tack those signals while avoiding detection herself.


    Constantly searching for signals which matched the ones the Dolos had received.


    Constantly on the move.


    Worst of all, that travel would leave her unable to work on finishing the Coeus, and would slow down her ability to fight back if its location were discovered.


    But winning a war rarely resulted from a confluence of ideal conditions, did it?


    Risks had to be taken. It was the nature of her endeavor.


    The sooner she left, the sooner she could return.


    ...But Vond would have to remain behind.


    She could always skip directly back with her personal skipper if she managed to receive an injury grave enough to warrant his skill, but she could not afford to keep him in such close quarters for a mission such as this. Scared as he was of her, if the doctor saw an opportunity to escape or incapacitate her, there was little doubt in the soldier’s mind that he would take it.


    Resolved, Kel collected a crate filled with rations, and crossed the hall to her prisoner’s domain.


    She wondered if he would like being left alone, or if the isolation would be similar to torture. From his complaints of boredom, she could guess a plausible outcome, but then again Vond also seemed wary of her company.


    It wasn’t like she went out of her way to hurt him. She actually, regularly, avoided harm.


    But those first few days had clearly been enough to cement a respectable level of fear into her captive’s mind. Something Kel still believed to have been necessary, given his stubborn streak.


    It was difficult to summon sympathy for someone like Vond, but if he would only follow orders consistently, she could stop inflicting punishments altogether.


    Vond was asleep when she entered the infirmary. He was curled up on his side, chest rising and falling evenly.


    A chest Kel could see far more of than she had anticipated, because the man had inexplicably removed his bright neon shirt, and draped it over his head.


    There were bruises on the man’s stomach, and a rather deep purple one on his left ribcage. The visible remnants of a minor altercation they had had a day or so prior.


    Just enough pain to remind him why resisting a simple search was a foolish decision. She doubted he would make that mistake again.


    ...She might have cracked one of his ribs. She was not certain.


    Idly, Kel wondered how long that injury would take to heal. The man clearly could not splint it like he had the bones in his hand, so she supposed they would take the full six weeks, if his initial claim had been truthful...and she did nothing to aggravate it.


    Vond snorted in his sleep, and rolled onto his back.


    There was a mole next to his belly button.


    A small imperfection, that might have been endearing on someone less monstrous.


    An impulsive thought flashed through Kel’s mind.


    Well, she did need to wake him up, didn’t she?


    There were less cruel methods...but temptation was a difficult thing to resist. Especially one as amusing as it was harmless.


    And truly, it was his fault for leaving himself so vulnerable.


    She poked the mole.


    Vond squeaked.


    One flailing twist of his startled body rapidly shifted the sound into a gasp, then a groan as the man curled in on himself, and clutched at his side.


    ...Right.


    The rib.


    Oops.


    “Hello, doctor.” Kel lifted the shirt away from the man’s head, and smiled. “Getting a bit too comfortable, are we?”


    He blinked up at her, pain and confusion mixed with fear on his scruffy face. “W-what?”


    “I walk in here to find you half-naked.” As she held the shirt out to him, she caught a whiff of stale sweat, and wrinkled her nose. “Hardly the behavior of a professional, wouldn’t you agree?”


    “I-I’m sorry,” Vond sat up with a wince, took the shirt from her, and slowly slipped it back on. “I just...I was trying to get some sleep.”


    Kel frowned. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”


    “Is it?” The doctor rubbed his eyes, and she noticed the bags under them as he looked up again. “I don’t have a clock in here, Kel. And the lights are really bright. I must’ve lost track.”


    Annoyance made Kel’s hand twitch, but she suppressed it.


    After all, hadn’t she wanted this? Disorientation would weaken his resolve.


    Her prisoner did not get to dictate the conditions of his captivity.


    “You will gain no sympathy by over-exaggerating your fatigue,” Kel said.


    “It’s not an exaggeration,” He shook his head. “You know, you told me not to keep things from you. Especially not health-related stuff. Well, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in...has it been weeks since I’ve been here?”


    “wo weeks,” Kel told him. “It is July thirtieth.”


    Twenty eighth, in reality. But she was curious to see if he would accept her answer.


    “Two weeks,” Vond’s deep breath was cut off with a wince and a hand to his side. “Look, I had a regimen I followed on the Nightingale. One that, among other things, involved a highly-structured sleep schedule. Constant light, especially from daylight-simulating bulbs like the ones stabbing my eyeballs at all hours of the day in here, destroys any attempt at keeping that up. If I can’t get some real sleep soon, my judgment’s going to deteriorate. So I’m asking this, in full earnestness: is whatever mind game you’re playing with the lights more important than my ability to think fast in an emergency?”


    The bastard was brave today.


    “Perhaps your judgment is already compromised,” Kel glared. “After all, why else would you be so foolish as to talk to me in such a manner?”


    Vond gulped, but his bagged brown eyes didn’t look away. “Maybe you’re right. But that would prove my point, wouldn’t it?”


    Another twitch.


    Another suppression.


    Best to leave on good terms, lest things go awry.


    “How is your hand?” Kel changed the subject.


    Vond’s shoulder’s relaxed slightly, and he looked down at the purple-clad hand held to his side. “It’s, um, coming along. Probably another week or so for the bones to heal enough to take the fusion splint off. And the stitches can probably come out tomorrow. Still has healing to do, but after a while the stitches start to do more harm than good.”


    “I see,” Kel nodded. “Well, I will have to trust you to use your best judgment.”


    The doctor snorted. “I think we’ve already established an issue there.”


    …Point made.


    She let herself laugh. Slightly. “I suppose so. Well regardless, I will expect both splint and stitches to be gone by the time I get back. Understood?”


    Vond frowned again. “Back?”


    “I have some business which will require my prolonged absence from this…place,” Kel guarded her language. “I will return, but until then you will be on your own. Do not attempt to escape. You will fail. These rations should suffice for the duration.”


    She placed the crate of rations onto the bed next to him. They would last a few days longer than her highest estimate for this fact-finding mission. He would likely be sick of the taste of chocolate by that point, but…The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Vond stared at the crate in clear, unadulterated horror.


    Kel tilted her head. “Oh, what now?”


    “How...” the doctor’s voice shook. “How long exactly are you planning to be gone?”


    The soldier’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”


    “Why do I...” Vond’s wide, exhausted eyes stared at her. “Kel, that’s two months of rations. If I need all of that, plus what’s in the pantry, then are you seriously planning to leave me here for––”


    “What pantry?” The man’s inability to read the correct number of rations contained in the crate was far less important than that slip. “You don’t have a pantry.”


    Vond shifted uncomfortably. “Um...I do? You’ve been giving me supplies for two weeks?”


    What new game was this?


    “I have not,” Kel said firmly. “Show me exactly what you are talking about.”


    Her captive hesitated, then crossed to one of the empty shelves on the left side of the room. He unzipped the containment mesh, and stepped away so she could look inside.


    Dozens of ration packs.


    Clearly the majority of what he had been given for his daily allotment.


    How could he have possibly squirreled away that much food without making himself faint? Was this why his wounds truly healed so slowly?


    Regardless, its purpose was clear.


    A stockpile.


    Vond was making a stockpile.


    She rushed over to him, grabbed the front of his smelly scrubs, and pressed him back against the shelves. “What are you planning?”


    “I-I’m not planning anything,” the doctor babbled. “I just couldn’t eat everything. I had to find a place for the extras––”


    “There should not be extra rations.” Kel glared. “You are supposed to eat them, not horde them. From hereon out, you will eat at least nine of them a day. You will not starve yourself. You will keep your energy up, and be prepared to provide medical assistance at any time. Understood?”


    “I...um...” Vond shifted uncomfortably. “Are you sure ab––”


    “Are you truly going to argue against keeping yourself alive?” Kel growled the question.


    “No no,” The doctor said quickly. “I’m not arguing with you about eating. I’m happy to have food without...without having to even ask for it...”


    Was he really going to make her pry the explanation from him. “But?”


    “But I can’t eat nine of them every day,” Vond claimed. “I’m grateful that you’re being so generous with the ration packs, but I don’t think you’ve looked at the nutritional info on them. Just one pack is––”


    “One thousand calories.” Kel eyes narrowed at the word ‘generous.’ “Yes. I did read it.”


    Her captive gave her a baffled look. “So...then you know what it means to give me nine of them a day? Are you trying to fatten me up? What possible purpose could that serve?”


    What was he talking about?


    Kel scoffed. “I’m barely giving you enough to get by, and you sit there and claim I’m overfeeding you?”


    Vond stared. “Barely enough...Kel, you’ve been giving me nine thousand calories worth of rations a day. That’s enough to feed four people! How much do you eat in a day?”


    The soldier scowled.


    What kind of ploy was this?


    “Humans need a minimum of nine thousand calories a day to stave off starvation,” Kel reminded him. “Not accounting for growing muscle mass, or a day with above-average exercise. Any true doctor should know this. It’s basic biology.”


    “No, apparently you need nine thousand calories a day,” the man argued. “But most Humans only need between a thousand five-hundred and two thousand five-hundred. Only high-level athletes, or people with specific metabolic issues, tend to need more than that. Heck, I ate about four thousand calories a day when I was on the swim team back in college, but that was the peak of my intake. I’d never expect a sedentary patient to eat even half of what you’ve been giving me.”


    How could he possibly expect her to believe that? “Stop lying.”


    “What possible reason would I have to lie?” Vond pressed. “Even if you’re right, and I’m starving myself to build this pantry, why would I do that? Do you really think I can make a run for it in unknown space with a handful of rations? You just said an escape attempt wouldn’t work! For god’s sake, I’m chained to a bed, and even if I wasn’t––”


    “Enough!” Kel snapped.


    The doctor went silent.


    Finally able to focus her thoughts, it quickly became clear this wasn’t an issue threats could resolve.


    Perhaps she had misinterpreted her discovery. The man seemed to have a fair grasp on the futility of another attempted escape.


    And he didn’t seem about to faint. He was tired, yes, but the utter dizziness and inability to function that she would have felt after such little food for so long did not appear to have manifested in him.


    Perhaps he was telling the truth.


    Although that raised more questions than it answered.


    Not all ones she wanted to contemplate at that moment.


    Kel released the doctor, and took a step back.


    “Why didn’t you tell me I was giving you too much food?”


    “Honestly, I thought you were thinking ahead,” Vond made a vain attempt to smooth down the front of his wrinkled shirt. “I thought you were giving me extra in case you got busy, or––I don’t know––if we suddenly had actual patients, and I needed to have some food on hand for them? Hence the pantry. I wasn’t trying to hide it.”


    ...Right.


    Although she was reluctant to admit it, the man had a point. She had almost forgotten to feed him, multiple times.


    Adjusting to having a...prisoner...was a process.


    And beyond her captive’s wellbeing, it actually was a good idea to have extra food in the infirmary. When her people were finally free, there was no telling what their immediate needs would be.


    Additionally, if Kel were to be recaptured at any point during her mission, knowing the extent of Vond’s dwindling stockpile might give her a simple form of leverage.


    Likely not, but depending on exactly who her captors were, it could be worth the attempt.


    “Very well,” Kel decided. “You may keep the pantry. Try not to overindulge.”


    “I’ll do my best,” Vond huffed. “You know, at least this explains a few things.”


    She glared again. “Like what?”


    Fear flashed across his face, but he continued. “I’m guessing you need the extra energy to keep up with your, um, abilities. I don’t know what’s behind that super strength of yours, but I’m gathering that you need the diet of an olympic swimmer just to keep stable. That’s gotta suck.”


    Kel pressed her lips into an impatient, thin line.


    As much as she hated to admit it, that was a fair deduction.


    One which she never had reason to consider before this interaction. And the man had not even touched upon her healing abilities. Likely an attempt not to give away what he knew. A wise one at that.


    Despite what she had been taught, it appeared there was a trade-off for the enhanced abilities of a Phoenix after all. One which could complicate any plans to convert the entire Human population to their better forms.


    Had their parents been so devoted to creating a better Humanity that they could not see a potential catastrophe on the horizon? Or had they already formulated a plan to quintuple the food supply in order to make up the difference?


    If they had, Kel would likely never know. There had not been time to gather their records, when the Coalition––


    “You know, I’m actually a decent cook,” the doctor’s irritating voice severed her thoughts. “If there’s a kitchen in this ship, or even a hot plate or something that we could set up here, I could make us something nicer. It really doesn’t take much to make real food––”


    “Food which you could easily drug,” Kel pointed out.


    Vond crooked an eyebrow. “Once again, what good would drugging you do when I’m chained to a bed? I just thought it might be nice to eat something more satisfying than rations every once in awhile. Or even something not room-temperature. Even canned soup tastes a lot better hot, you know.”


    That was true. Which was why she regularly heated her meals, and feasted from the liberated pantry of the Dolos at least once a day, instead of solely its emergency fare. She certainly ate her share of the nutrient-dense ration packs out of practicality, but she did not need him to cook for her.


    The soldier huffed. “This is not a resort, doctor. I’m not looking for ways to make this more comfortable for you.”


    “Right,” the man tilted his head, and gave her an annoyed look. “Are you ever going to tell me why you want me miserable? Or is it just fun for you?”


    Kell scowled, but chose not to strike him this time. She was not certain she could temper her strength.


    Did he truly still believe she would succumb to this ruse?


    “ou know why.”


    “


    “Enough.”


    The man went silent.


    Kel’s lip twitched.


    At least that portion of his conditioning was coming along well.


    And if he was telling the truth, this was certainly a good time to test it.


    “I only plan to be gone for a few days,” Kel chose to take the relief that flicked across Vond’s face as a compliment. “How much of a...stockpile...have your created thus far?”


    The prisoner’s shoulders relaxed; he let out a deep breath. “Well, if it’s really been about two weeks, and I’ve managed to get through about two packs a day...and only that much because I didn’t wanna leave anything lying around half-eaten...so I’ve got about a hundred unopened packs in that crate. So I could technically go for about––”


    “Fifty days,” the soldier let out a dry laugh. “Without even rationing.”


    Honestly, the speed at which the metabolic differences added up were astonishing.


    Her leaders absolutely must have had an equally astonishing plan to expand the food supply.


    ...She could only hope that plan had survived whatever event had led to her abduction.


    “,” Vond shuffled his feet. “Doesn’t change your plans, does it?”


    In a way, it was comforting to know she could easily leave him locked in the infirmary for such a long time with such a meager amount of supplies, and not have to worry about coming back to a corpse...but it wouldn’t be necessary this time.


    Honesty seemed appropriate, so she shrugged. “If I am not back by the time you finish a quarter of those rations, I likely will not be coming back.”


    Vond winced at that, and Kel found she could not blame him. She had no intention of starving her prisoner to death...but in practicality, if she were killed or captured whilst on her mission, that was exactly what would happen.


    Nonetheless, she refused to feel guilt over that potentiality. After all he had done, there were still worse, and more appropriate, deaths for someone like him.


    “Is...” the doctor hesitated; cleared his throat. “Is there any chance you could leave me with a book or something?”


    She raised an eyebrow. “And why would I do that?”


    Vond’s brown eyes pleaded with her. “Turning my brain to mush won’t help your operation run smoothly. It’s going to be at least a week all on my own. I need to keep my mind sharp. I’ll go numb if I have to stare at the ceiling for––”


    “You had no qualms in condemning me to that fate,” Kel snapped.


    The doctor blinked. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”


    The soldier gritted her teeth.


    Anger at the man’s hypocritical whining was not enough of a reason to expose exactly how much she knew about his involvement. A valuable slip was far more likely if he guessed incorrectly.


    But did he have to be such a good actor? His confusion seemed so genuine…


    Enough.


    She had work to do, and she could not be thrown off track any more.


    “If you are bored,” Kel collected the superfluous crate of food and started for the door. “Memorize the ingredient labels on every medicine in the infirmary.”


    “That’s not what I...” Vond’s voice trailed off. It returned, far more strained, as Kel reached the door. “Please don’t hurt anyone.”


    The soldier stopped, and turned back. “Excuse me?”


    “I...um...” the doctor’s eyes glinted in the bright lights. “I don’t know what you’re going to do. I just don’t want anybody to get hurt. Please.”


    She knew they were crocodile tears. They had to be.


    They wouldn’t sway her. She knew what kind of man he was.


    He had to be.


    Kindness was a weakness. As was mercy.


    She would do what she must. He would not sway her resolve.


    “Catch up on your sleep, doctor. I will be back.”


    She set the lights to fifty percent illumination, to conserve energy, then closed the door.