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Flying in a real ship took a little bit of getting used to for Omega, but she found it exhilarating. The first few times the Marauder had traversed hyperspace, she spent most of the time at the viewports, watching the shades of blue and white whirl by like they were caught in a whirlpool of luminescent water. She had read about flying plenty of times, and had been on some small Kaminoan shuttles. but those things did not do it justice. No story or datapad could ever give her the brief sensation of weightlessness, the fluttering feeling in her stomach, the sheer freedom of it all. She looked forward to every time they would take to the air…until her first experience with a harrowing escape upon leaving Saleucami.
Omega gasped when the Marauder lurched to life, the hatch finally slamming shut and muting the sounds of blaster shots outside. Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Tech were all shouting over one another, and she couldn’t make sense of their words, her body thrumming with adrenaline. Something pinged against the Marauder’s hull, and she barely had time to acknowledge that they were still being shot at before the Marauder lurched again. Her stomach dropped with the sensation of liftoff, but there was more force behind it than she was expecting. She went staggering across the cabin as the ship tilted sharply upwards with a speed that made her head spin. She would have fallen flat on her face had Wrecker not caught her.
“Easy, kid,” he said, completely unfazed by the ship’s uneven maneuvers. “We should probably get you to a seat.”
Any reply Omega would have made was lost as the ship banked sharply to the left, the floor seeming to tilt beneath her feet. Wrecker did not stumble in the slightest as he bore her easily into the cockpit, setting her in a chair and bringing the straps down.
Tech was at the flight controls, hunched in a posture of sheer concentration, while Hunter and Echo monitored various systems around him. The sky stretched before the viewport, split with the flashing lights of blaster bolts all around.
The Marauder shook as something hit it with a dull thud, the tremor traveling all the way through Omega’s body. She opened her mouth to ask what had happened, but the air was ripped from her lungs when Tech yanked the controls to the right. The clouds outside tilted sharply, and she felt herself leave the chair for an instant before thudding against it again as the ship evened out.
“Wrecker, take the turret!” Hunter ordered. “We need cover fire!”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Wrecker stumped away, barely faltering even as the ship veered sideways again.
Omega slumped in her seat. Grabbing the armrests did nothing to abate the spinning in her head, her stomach beginning to feel like churning water of Kamino in a storm as fear took over her previous excitement. With each lurch and turn, she anticipated dropping out of the sky and plummeting to the planet now hundreds if not thousands of feet below.
“Hey!” Wrecker shouted from the back. “We got some fighters incoming!”
Another impact rocked the ship as Tech answered, “I can circumvent them.”
In hindsight, Omega should have known he was about to do something drastic by the way Hunter and Echo grabbed the nearest objects for balance, but she was completely unprepared when he slammed the ship’s brakes, throwing her forward against her harness. Everything in the ship that wasn’t bolted down tumbled at the sudden change of momentum, and somewhere in the cabin Gonky warbled as he was knocked off balance.
In the course of a few seconds, the Marauder came to a near complete stop in the air, and three gunships went hurtling by outside the viewport, unable to slow down enough to match the maneuver. The ship seemed to hover for a moment, then Omega’s stomach took a horrible roll as it turned, gravity beginning to take hold again. The clouds shifted, and the dark surface of Saleucami became visible through the far side of the viewport. They were going to fall.
Tech hit the thrusters, sending the Marauder spinning off into a cloud bank, the distant planetary surface and the pursuing fighters vanishing behind the vapor. Omega didn’t realize she had screamed until Hunter appeared in front of her, eyes wide.
“What’s wrong, kid?”
Her reply tumbled out between heaving breaths as the world continued to spin around her. “We-we’re gonna crash!”
Hunter relaxed, as though he were perfectly at ease with the chaos around them. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get out of here just fine.”
The Marauder banked sharply upwards, and Hunter narrowly avoided stumbling into her. Gunship bolts flashed in the clouds, and there was another terrific thud that shook the ship, followed by Wrecker’s triumphant laugh. “Haha! Got one!”
“Ease up, Tech!” Hunter said, bracing himself against Omega’s seat. “You’re scaring the kid!”
Tech did not look away from the viewport. “If I do that, we risk actually crashing. It will be over with shortly.”
More crossfire, more impacts, and more shaking. Omega’s hands ached from gripping the armrests as a wave of nausea rolled over her. The spinning hadn’t stopped, but she wasn’t sure if it was in her head. Hunter said something that she did not hear, but her focus now only extended to keeping the contents of her stomach inside it. A cold sweat broke out on her skin, and she screwed her eyes shut, hoping she wouldn’t open them to a free fall towards the surface.
There was a rush of noise and chaos and light flickering, then everything stilled, or so it seemed now that she was no longer being thrown around in her seat. Still, she didn’t dare open her eyes, trying desperately to ride out the tumbling fall her stomach had taken.
“Kid?” Hunter spoke nearby, nudging her shoulder. “We’re safe. We made it to hyperspace.”
Omega cracked an eye open just enough to see the blue vortex, but she felt no desire to watch it flow by.
“You okay?” Hunter pressed when she stayed silent.
Swallowing back the taste of bile, Omega mumbled. “Don’t feel good.”
“Let’s get you out of there.” Hunter opened the harness, grabbing her under the arms and lifting her from her seat. The motion did nothing to help the nausea, and she dangled helplessly in his hold, exerting all her willpower to keep her stomach from rebelling.
“What has happened?” Tech asked somewhere nearby.
“Kid’s feeling sick. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Hunter said, practically dragging her from the cockpit.
“Lay her down on a bunk.”
Omega’s world took another sickening tilt, then her back hit the lumpy, vaguely padded material of a bunk. Hunter leaned over her, his brow furrowed, and the others lingered somewhere behind him.
“Don’t worry, kid. It’ll pass,” he said. “Just take some deep breaths.”
“I’d say that’s a logical reaction to Tech’s flying,” Echo said.
Tech appeared with a cup in his hands, elbowing Hunter out of the way with something like an apologetic look on his face. “Here, this will help you.”
Omega accepted his help bringing the cup to her lips. There was only a small amount of liquid inside, and she found out why as soon as it hit her tongue. It had little smell, but the taste was rancid and bitter, almost burning. Tech seemed to know this already, as he tipped the cup forward and forced the substance into her mouth. The texture was equally repulsive, thick to the point of almost being slimy as it slid down her throat. She coughed, and might have heaved it right back up again had Tech not presented her with another cup, this one full of water. She snatched in from him, drinking deeply to wash away the offensive texture and taste.
“What was that?” Echo asked, sounding disgusted for her. “I don’t remember seeing anything like that before.”
“A tonic brought back from Kashyyyk,” Tech replied. “Its overall qualities are not…appealing, but it is comprised of several herbs and roots that seem to reduce common maladies such as nausea.”
True to his word, as soon as the disgusting aspects were washed away, Omega immediately felt better as her stomach settled. The dizziness had not quite gone, however, and she let her head drop back against the bunk as she relinquished the cup.
“Does that help?” Tech asked, giving her a considering look.
“A little,” Omega rasped, her body still reeling from the sudden assault on her senses.
“Good, as I suspected.” Tech adjusted his goggles, and she couldn’t be sure, but he almost looked embarrassed. “I suppose I forgot to factor in your inexperience with my flight maneuvers.”
“I…I dunno if I like flying anymore,” Omega confessed.
“Way to go, Tech!” Wrecker complained, smacking him in the shoulder.
A small squabble ensued, but Hunter ignored it as he addressed her. “Try not to worry about it, kid. Tech is one of the best pilots out there, even if his approach seems a little…”
“…Scary?” Omega finished.
Hunter huffed, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Yeah, I guess so.”
After that incident, things were relatively normal for a while, or what Omega supposed passed for normal. Her hesitance toward flying remained, which was troublesome given that the Marauder was their home. Every time the ship lifted off, the motion brought her the nagging fear of being pursued and shot down, despite being assured several times that they had survived similar situations all throughout the war. She finally began to overcome her aversion one slow evening on Ord Mantell.
“Omega.” Tech approached her in the Marauder’s cabin as she fiddled with some of the decorations in her new “bedroom”. “I am going to take the Marauder up for a routine systems check, and I assume you are coming with me.”
Omega frowned apprehensively. Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo had gone into Ord Mantell to find someone for Cid, and she wondered if it wasn’t too late to try and find them. “Uh, can I say no?”
“Considering I am not about to leave you in this place all by yourself, no.” Tech’s face softened with sympathy. “It will not be anything drastic, and it was…strongly recommended to me by the others that I familiarize you with the ship and how it works, in the hope that you will feel less apprehensive about it going forward.”
Omega thought it over. “I guess I do like it…when we’re not close to crashing.”
“We were never close to crashing even if it felt like it, at least not on my account. But this will be a simple and straightforward flight, even boring by my standards.”
Hearing Tech admit to something like boredom made Omega smile. “Okay, I’ll try it.”
Tech headed for the cockpit, beckoning for her to follow. “Excellent. You may sit in the copilot’s seat.”
That piqued Omega’s interest, and she ran after him, her misgivings temporarily set aside. She hopped into the copilot’s seat, her feet dangling above the floor as she settled in, taking extra care to make sure her harness was secure. Now that she faced them head on, the number of buttons, switches, and screens in front of her were almost intimidating. It reminded her of Nala Se’s lab, though she did not know the function of these.
“There are so many things…” she murmured, folding her hands in her lap to resist the urge to touch anything.
“Unfortunately, there is not enough time to go over everything right now,” Tech said, “but I can begin explaining the tools I will be using for this flight.”
“Yes, please.” Omega gripped the armrests tightly as the ship folded into its flightworthy form, lifting off from the ground. As Tech promised, the ascent was uneventful, and she watched him carefully as he explained and pointed out each mechanism he was using. He seemed to be barely paying attention to the act of flying itself, his hands moving across the dashboard with a precise and habitual grace as he talked. Soon enough, the ship broke through the clouds to the sky, evening out in a smooth, unobstructed cruise.
“Wow…” Omega craned her neck, trying to see out the viewport.
“You may get up, if you wish,” Tech said. “We will not be deviating from this altitude until we return.”
Omega eagerly took him up on it, unbuckling herself and leaning over the dashboard. The clouds were cast in light and shadow, their shapes painting them as hills and valleys, sweeping canyons and towering mountains of vapor passing below the ship. “That’s pretty.”
“I suppose so,” Tech agreed. “There is something greatly fascinating about cloud formations such as these.”
“I like it when you don’t fly like a crazy person.”
Tech scoffed. “What constitutes as ‘flying like a crazy person’ is highly subjective.”
Omega leaned against the arm of his chair, watching him. One hand held the steering, while the other rested lightly on the dashboard, his fingers tapping in the anticipation of movement. “Well, if you don’t, who does?”
“Hunter and Wrecker.” Tech answered at once. “They have nearly crashed the ship more times than I care to count.”
“And you didn’t when we left Saleucami?”
“Of course not. Every action I took was carefully strategized. Hunter and Wrecker show little care in that regard.”
Omega snorted. “What about Echo, then?”
“He certainly has more strategy and skill, like as part of his ARC trooper training. That is why he is my copilot more often than not.”
“And…Crosshair?” The question slipped out before Omega realized it.
Tech’s face betrayed little, his focus remaining fixed on flying the ship, and he answered after a brief silence. “Crosshair is good at it. He often left the flying to me, since I enjoy it more, but he is capable of exercising many of the same maneuvers I am.”
“So you like flying crazy?”
“I suppose so. Sometimes it is strategically sound and necessary to avoid additional conflict, and other times…I like the speed.”
“I don’t understand why.”
“Well, I don’t understand why you and Wrecker like that candy you’re always eating. We all have our preferences, though you may understand my flying once you grow more familiar with the concept.”
Omega frowned, watching his fingers drum absentmindedly against the controls. Rap, tap, tap. “Aren’t you afraid of crashing, though?”
“I have not crashed since my cadet days, so no. My skills are such that crashing is an improbability barring a catastrophic failure of the ship itself, which is why I perform maintenance like this.” Tech seemed to realize that she was still unconvinced as he went on. “Contrary to how it may appear, I consider the safety of everyone on board.”
“Even if it makes me sick?”
“I would much rather have you alive to begin with.”
Omega was still growing accustomed to his blunt way of speaking, and the straightforward statement startled her. However, a pleasant feeling came creeping in as she realized what he was saying.
“We need to turn a few degrees to the right.” Tech gestured to the controls. “Would you like to do it?”
The offer startled Omega even more. It had taken years before Nala Se had allowed her any of the laboratory machinery, and even then it had been under great scrutiny. “Uh…sure.”
“All you need to do is tilt the wheel to the right, gently.” Tech shifted his hold so she could grab the wheel, but she was not expecting him to let go completely.
“Don’tletgo!” she shouted, startling herself as much as Tech.
The Marauder jerked a little as Tech grabbed the wheel again. “Er, it was not my intention to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” Omega let out a deep breath, feeling the Marauder list slightly around her as Tech helped her guide it to the right.
“Well done,” Tech said as he straightened the wheel again.
Omega was taken aback by the praise. “I hardly did anything.”
“Perhaps not, but you tried it despite your misgivings, which warrants encouragement.”
The pleasant, warm feeling returned as Omega realized he was sincere. “I-I guess so…”
“Would you like to try again when the opportunity comes?”
“Uh, I think I’d rather watch.”
Tech responded with an amiable nod. “Very well. In that case, I can start assessing the ship’s systems for functionality and efficiency. I always start with the engines, obviously, since they are vital to the ship’s flight functions.”
The rest of the flight passed quickly for Omega. She tried to take in every single thing Tech pointed out, despite his acknowledgment that she could not manage to memorize everything at once. On the way back to the spaceport, she was so relaxed that she dozed off, though she was not aware of it until the ship’s touchdown jostled her.
“I’m awake!” she cried to no one in particular as she came back to herself, mortified at her lapse.
Tech looked at her, and her embarrassment faded as he gave her an almost-smile, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. “You are now, indeed.”
From that point on, Omega was occasionally designated as Tech’s “copilot” though she rarely did anything beyond observing and listening. He coached her on how to combat the motion sickness she had experienced, mainly by keeping her eyes on the viewport, and it worked wonders as she became more accustomed to his particular method of flying.
It took some time for her to work up to actually flying the ship herself, but once she tried it, she found it was not so bad. However, landing the ship was another matter entirely.
“Here will suffice.” Tech indicated the grove of trees he had directed her to hover over.
Omega cast him a dubious glance. Seeing him in the copilot’s chair was still bizarre. “There’s lots of trees, though. They might get in the way.”
“That is precisely why I want you to try here,” Tech said. “There are always obstacles to consider, though these are relatively minor.”
“Okay.” Omega took a deep breath, drumming her fingers against the controls in the hope that it would grant her Tech’s level of precision. Rap, tap, tippity-tap.
“How do you begin?” Tech queried, which she had come to understand was his way of asking her to recite her knowledge.
Omega mentally went down the list of maneuvers she had been trying to commit to memory. She was glad it was only the two of them; she couldn’t imagine trying to focus with the rest of them there. “Uh, easing off the hover propulsors?”
“You are correct. Start powering them down, slowly.”
Omega began as he had showed her. The descent started off smoothly, but it became progressively rockier as the ship entered the trees and the foliage closed in around them. She wasn’t sure if she had screamed aloud or in her head, and by the end of it she had a white-knuckled grip on the controls. She didn’t realize the ship had stopped moving until Tech tugged gently at her hands.
“The ship is stopped,” he said, seeming completely unfazed by her attempt. “You can let go now.”
Omega let go, her fingers stiff, and she slumped in the chair, trying to gather her wits. Tech leaned over her, his brow furrowed.
“Are you alright?” He shook her a little. “Omega?”
Omega finally remembered how to breathe, the feeling of exhilaration and freedom that she had first experienced reigniting inside her. She looked at him and whispered, “That was really fun.”
Tech blinked, then cracked a genuine smile. “I’m relieved. Now, we should go out and assess the ship for damages.”
Omega’s excitement vanished in a wave of dismay. “Really?”
“Yes, but I’m not expecting to find much.” Tech answered quickly. “Even if there was some sort of major damage, I could not let you take responsibility, as I directed you to set down here. This is little more than an exercise in determining external conditions.”
“Okay.” Somewhat relieved, Omega hopped out of the pilot’s seat and followed him out of the ship on wobbly legs.
“The trees probably suffered more damage than the ship itself,” Tech noted, gesturing to the broken branches scattered on the ground around the ship. “Though that is sometimes unavoidable in tight confines.”
Omega eyed the Marauder’s hull nervously, almost expecting to find a gaping hole in the durasteel, but as Tech had promised there seemed to be little damage done. She couldn’t even tell what might be new marks until he pointed them out, lacking the tarnish and scoring of the other scratches.
“These are no great detriment to the ship,” Tech assured her as he circled the Marauder’s front. “It does not take much observation to see it has suffered worse.”
Omega took him up on that, studying the scratched and scarred metal. “What about that spot?” She pointed to a large patch of the plating that looked marginally cleaner than its surroundings. “What happened there?”
“That was actually intentional,” Tech said, glancing where she indicated. “There was a cosmetic on that section that was later removed.”
“A cosmetic?”
“An art piece of a senator we, er…greatly admired.”
“Wow…” Omega tried to envision what it might have looked like. “Why’d you get rid of it?”
“Because it was not up to army standards.” Tech cleared his throat. “While we look, can you tell me the steps you should take to jump to hyperspace?”
“Yes, and I think I can get it right this time!” Omega ran to catch up with him. “First, you designate power from both the ship’s engines and capacitors to keep them from getting strained…”
Omega did not forget the frightening but strangely thrilling experience, and as she learned she became progressively bolder with her maneuvers, much to the chagrin of Hunter and Echo. Wrecker just laughed and told her to keep it up, and while Tech continuously reiterated safety, he didn’t discourage her from emulating his flying style. By the time they made it to Pabu, she was confident in her skills, enough to jump at the chance to execute what she considered the “Tech Turn” without thinking twice about it.
As she greeted Echo at his arrival on Pabu after one such wild lesson, the ARC Trooper looked at her, then the Marauder, then Tech with clear amusement. “Looks like you’ve been giving him a taste of what we’ve all had to deal with from him.”
Omega looked back at Tech, who was struggling to collect himself. “Well, I wasn’t trying to.”
“But I’m glad you did.” Echo smirked as he called out to Tech, “Having any regrets yet?”
Tech frowned as he adjusted his vest. “No.”
“You know, you could’ve let me teach her.”
“You still can!” Omega cried. “You can stay on Pabu with us!”
Echo sighed, giving her a small smile. “You know I can’t, kid, but I might see about making some visits…”
“And let you lay waste to my ship?” Tech sniffed. “I think not.”
“Oh, please.” Echo rolled his eyes, making Omega laugh. “Half of the maintenance is my work.”
“Done at my direction,” Tech fired back, the corner of his mouth ticking up.
“Alright, fine. Just promise me you’ll teach her how to deal with a crash landing. She’ll need it if she’s imitating your flying. She probably even starts the hyperdrive in that same convoluted way.”
“It is a logical series of steps to avoid undue stress. As for the crash training, I am not sure…”
“That sounds like a great idea!” Omega chimed in, bouncing a little.
Tech frowned pensively. “Without access to a proper training facility, simulating the conditions of a crash will be more difficult.”
“But it would be so much fun!” Omega grabbed his hands, tugging on them. “Please?”
“Where’s that kid who didn’t like flying?” Echo wondered.
“Very well.” Tech smiled slightly as Omega performed a small dance of excitement, still clinging to his hands. “It may take some time for me to put something together.”
“That’s fine, I can keep practicing the Tech Turn until then!” Omega said.
Echo choked on a laugh. “The what now?”
Tech’s smile grew. “A lovely name for that maneuver you did so hate.”
Echo’s face dropped. “Not that one. Anything but that one, kid!”
“Why? That’s the best one!” Omega laughed.
“He really has brainwashed you since I left. I need to save you!” Echo hauled Omega into his arms, her laughter transforming into a squeal.
“Tech, help me!” she cried between giggles, reaching toward her other brother.
Tech seemed to contemplate it. “I think I’m still recovering from that practice flight.”
“Traitor!”
“This is why he’s the smart one.” Echo lifted Omega so she was perched on his good arm. “He knows better than to mess with me.”
“Only when I think I can’t get away with it,” Tech said, looking amused. “But rest assured, I will keep teaching her everything I can, especially the things you hate.”
Omega dissolved into another fit of laughter at Echo’s expression of mock offense, already envisioning her next flight.
Omega took a deep breath as the shadow brought her onto his ship, the warm, smoke-tainted air of Pabu melting away into cold sterility. He pushed her to sit on the floor, and she did without complaint, the manacles biting into her wrists. With a fluidity that was almost graceful, the shadow prowled to the pilot’s chair, readying the ship for takeoff.
Omega closed her eyes, fighting back the panic that threatened to take over at the thought of returning to Tantiss. She would not be there long; Crosshair would track the ship and they would come for her. They would put an end to Hemlock’s experiments, and no more people would get hurt because of her.
The ship shifted as it left the ground, taking off into Pabu’s atmosphere with a swiftness that broke Omega from her attempted meditation as she fought to keep her balance with bound hands. As the motion continued, her stomach began to churn with that ugly, sick feeling. She looked out the viewport at the rapidly darkening sky beyond the shadow’s formidable form of to stop the nausea before it truly started. She did not want to be sick in his presence.
Too soon, the blotted canvas of space spread before the viewport, and the shadow’s hands moved in quick, precise patterns across the controls. Once they were in hyperspace, there was no turning back. To combat that alarming thought, Omega began mentally reciting the steps to begin a hyperspace jump as she had learned them. She had sworn to not forget them even on Tantiss, to keep Tech alive in her memory. Even if the number of steps deviated from the standard, she would always do it as he taught her.
Designate power from the engines and capacitors. Cap the hyperdrive’s maximum power usage to maintain fuel efficiency. Set—
Omega’s list halted as her mind caught up with her eyes. Those very same steps were playing out in front of her. There were many systems she did not recognize, but she had come to know the controls on any hyperspace-worthy ship. It was jarring to see the shadow following the exact order she knew, even the extraneous things the others complained were unnecessary. She wondered if Tech had utilized a protocol that had been phased out of clone training at some point.
She was not surprised when the ship jumped to hyperspace, for it came at the end of the sequence she had memorized. Spiraling blue undercut the red tones of the interior, and the shadow turned to some system she did not immediately recognize. As the ship’s motion evened out, she let her eyes fall shut again. She did as she had before on Tantiss, envisioning herself safe on Pabu with her brothers, all of them. She liked to imagine Tech and Crosshair meeting again, and how it might play out. She may have been tormenting herself unnecessarily, but it brought her happiness as much as sorrow.
Rap, tap, tap.
Omega’s eyes snapped open. Maybe she wouldn’t do that after all if it was going to make her imagine things.
Rap, tap, tap.
No, it was real. Omega carefully turned her head to look at the only other person in the ship. The shadow had ceased his work, and now sat ramrod straight, staring into the vortex of hyperspace. A finger lifted then came down, tapping against the controls.
Rap, tap, tap.
Omega did not like the niggling familiarity the motion incited in her. She frowned at the shadow’s back as questions piled into her mind following that familiarity, interrupting the serenity she had sought to achieve. The shadow scared her, but the questions superseded that fear just enough. Hemlock wanted her alive; he couldn’t kill her at least.
Plucking up her courage and making every effort to keep her voice steady, she asked, “Who are you?”
Silence greeted her. The shadow did not so much as twitch. Only his finger continued in that frustrating cadence, a cadence she wished she didn’t know.
“Why are you doing this?” she tried. “I know you’re a clone. I’ve heard your voice.”
Still, he did not react.
“The Empire is using you. You may not be able to see it, but I do.” Omega kept speaking as her frustration spilled forth. “To them you’re not a person. You’re an object, and experiment.”
The creak of the pilot’s chair startled Omega into silence. The tapping cadence ceased as the shadow turned slowly, the glaring eyes of the mask fixing upon her. She held her breath, but he did not speak or move, staring at her.
“You’re just a tool to them,” she whispered, almost afraid to speak. “No one.”
The shadow was so still he almost seemed to be part of the ship. Omega jumped when the voice came, it was quiet but hard, crackling through the mask’s vocoder in an exhale. “I am no one.” It was spoken with assurance.
“But you’re not!” Omega’s heart felt hollow; Crosshair had been dangerously close to that sort of thinking on Tantiss. “You may be a clone, but you’re still someone, even if the Empire makes it seem like you’re not!”
The shadow tilted his head a fraction to the left. The tapping began again, this time against his leg.
Rap, tap, tap.
“I know you had brothers you fought with, and you were someone to them.” Omega let out a shaky sigh. “Even if I don’t know you, you’re someone to me.”
The shadow spoke again, louder than before. “I am singular.”
Rap, tap, tap.
“That’s right,” Omega said slowly. “You have a name that belongs to only you, even if you don’t remember. Like how my name is Omega.”
Rap, tap…tap.
The shadow went still again, the visor fixed on her, and it took every ounce of courage for her to not look away as the hidden eyes stared her down. Then he stood, and the sudden action made her flinch. He approached on silent feet, and she tried to put distance between them, her back hitting the wall hard. He stopped in front of her and crouched, looming close, and she tensed in the anticipation of some reprimand, but nothing happened.
She opened her mouth, but the shadow’s sudden closeness had stolen her ability to speak. All she could see was her own face reflected in the visor’s eyes, and her mind offered up many different possibilities for what lay below the mask. None of them were comforting. She thought nothing could unnerve her more than Hemlock, but as the emotionless mask hovered inches away, she had never felt smaller, like a prey animal waiting to be devoured.
“Are-are you going to hurt me?” she finally whispered.
The shadow tilted his head again, as though the question had surprised him, and she was once again struck with that troublesome sense of familiarity. Instead of answering, the shadow moved, and she cringed in the anticipation of being struck.
Instead, a hand wrapped around her left arm and lifted it, gentler than it had been before. She opened her eyes to find the shadow studying her bound hands.
“What…?” Omega’s question faltered as the shadow’s other hand rose, stopping just short of her left hand. His fingers hovered there, specifically over the line of scar tissue that ran along the back. He almost touched it, but hesitated.
Omega’s hands fell back into her lap as the shadow released her, standing suddenly. He stared at her, and she stared back, now more bewildered than scared.
“Hemlock wants you alive.” The words were made harsh by the mask, but it almost seemed like an assurance. Then the shadow walked back to his chair without a sound.
Omega was too unnerved to ask anymore questions. The shadow’s actions were strange, and it was stranger still that she recognized them. An image crept into her mind, one she did not like thinking of: Hemlock holding Tech’s broken goggles. A preposterous thought followed that image, so ridiculous that she mentally kicked herself.
He had fallen. She had mourned him, and she still did.
The shadow moved in the corner of her eye, reaching to adjust something, his hands flickering across the dashboard with practiced ease. The tapping continued occasionally.
It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was the stress and fear getting to her. She continued to tell herself that all the way to Tantiss.
And yet, as they exited hyperspace, the ship banked sharply in a manner she knew, that had frightened her at first but she had learned to love and emulate. She watched as they approached the planet at a speed far faster than normal, but she was not afraid. Tantiss was frightening enough, and the shadow would not crash. The mountain came up fast, and the shadow reached for the thrust, pulling it back with a suddenness that left her grappling for balance.
It was stupid. It was ridiculous. But Omega recognized what she saw, and the idea would not leave her mind.
They landed on the dark platform, and the shadow escorted her out to where Hemlock stood waiting. The cold halls of Tantiss waited, the fear building as she faced Hemlock’s piercing gaze, but she watched in the corner of her eye as the shadow departed.
Her brothers would come for her, and she did not doubt she would see the shadow again. She would find out who it was beneath the mask. She had to know, because now the idea would not leave her. The flight patterns, the shadow’s actions, their conversation all replayed themselves in her head as Hemlock led her into the lab where the terrible unknown awaited.
She had only ever known one man who would fly like a crazy person. He had fallen. She had mourned him.
And yet she felt like she had met him again, a shadow of him that had survived.
It was just the fear of Tantiss. Or was it?