{Enki}

Being in Enki brought back painful memories for Pehton. The last time the Lyriks were all gathered here was when the Primaries decommissioned them. These arrogant blue bastards created a species of near-mechanical women to use and discard at will. Ugliest pink slip ever. Two million years ago, and it was the only time Pehton had ever admired Triss.

“Why are you punishing us all for Gale’s mistake?” Triss’ yellow eyes glinted like citrines as Primary Bol stared down at her from his sixty-five feet of bulk, sat on his alabaster throne. She was unimpressed. “Condemning us to death for one Lyrik’s delusions of grandeur is grotesque.”

Pehton gasped behind her hand. The former Executive Warden actually spoke out against their makers. Miy broke rank to show solidarity. Oleen followed. Then the others. They stepped forward for their lives under Triss’ desperate defense.

Pehton was so impressed at the time, but now she knew the truth. It was Razor, wasn’t it?

Bol, solely concerned for repopulating the Tritan race, spared his precious time to berate the battalion of tiny, constructed females. “You are all complicit in her activities.”

Activities? Pehton narrowed her eyes at the word. Plural. Gale was the first and the most loyal of all Lyriks. She was the strongest—forewoman of the Siren’s Gale.

Triss seemed less surprised as she said, “You have no proof of this. How should we know Gale would ask us to act outside your interests? You sent her on secret missions frequently. That one instance—”

“Forty-eight.” Mouth shut, Triss fumed as Bol continued. “Forty-eight counts of conspiracy against your makers. Gale freed our test subjects and smuggled our weapons’ technology to rebel forces on numerous occasions.”

Fists clenched, teeth grit, Triss said, “You sent her to her death on Cinder. You knew Nox would destroy her.”

“We had hoped it would be Korac who would execute her.” Primary Rem—Remorse—entered the conduit into Bol’s sanctum where the women faced persecution.

Elden, in hindsight, Pehton noticed so much more. Triss relaxed the moment the compressed Tritan entered the white bone and translucent glass space because she already knew the news he brought to their sentencing.

Surprised to see the other Tritan, Bol managed a polite gesture of greeting to the highest ranking Primary. “Remorse, are you joining the proceedings?”

Remorse shook his head. “Nothing to proceed here, old friend. Their fates are decided.”

The Gargantuan recoiled and took a moment to recover before asking, “What is it to be?”

Facing the women, Primary Rem spared Pehton, the mother of his two beautiful children, an indiscernible glance. Regret? Grief? She’d never know because he said nothing to her. Instead, he announced, “Their punishment is to live solely in the employment of Gait as Wardens. No other commissions, ranks, or privileges.”

Pehton knew this condemned them to Razor’s service because she signed their volition to him. All but Triss, unbeknown to Pehton, who beamed at the news.

In the present, sitting in Primary Tumu’s kitchen, something about the story only now struck Pehton.

“You were helping Gale.”

Xelan, Caedes, Lamassau, and Korac stiffened and turned. Not Tumu. He carried on as if Pehton had never said a word, compiling Razor’s hand-drawn map with Caedes’ three-dimensional rendering to find the battleground Tameka promised their allies.

Korac’s eyes widened from their narrowed consideration as he searched Pehton’s face. It was as if he knew her well enough now to recognize a chord was struck. “What is it, Executive Warden?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Pehton tried to drill a hole in the back of Tumu’s head with her gaze. Korac noticed and tapped Xelan’s chest with the back of his hand, directing the Prince of Cinder to the old Primary.

Lamassau took the weight of their stares and, with a roll of his eyes, flicked his Tritan lover. “Yo, she’s talking to you, and you know it. Spit it out, Tumi.”

“Yes. I was helping Gale. Can we please return to the impending galactic apocalypse?”

Caedes made an approving humph.

Korac and Xelan exchanged a look before the former asked, “How do you mean?”

Lam whispered something in Tumu’s ear hole, while Pehton answered for him, “Gale was a double agent. All that time as the Primaries’ personal guard, she took advantage of the resources in Enki to free research subjects and smuggle technology out of Enki.”

Xelan’s mouth dropped open.

Korac frowned hard enough to nearly wrinkle his perfect face. Given his history with Gale, this news was tragic.

Caedes met Pehton’s eyes. “So your leader wasn’t a villain?”

She opened her mouth to answer when another interrupted.

“She was my friend.”

Every one of them glared at Tumu’s back.

The oldest Tritan kept it to them as he elaborated, “Gale was much like you, Pehton. She couldn’t stand suffering. Fed up with the mistreatment of Bol and Quet’s experiments, Gale came to me for help. The first Seamswalker wasn’t born yet, so a Primary would do. Using Aegis blood, I created conduits to Reipon, L. Capra, and Yu. Iuo, Kombuchi, and Legir helped the victims. I told no one because Gale feared retaliation. She thought to make an ally of the Icarean Princes, but her liaison with Korac unearthed some anxieties she never once considered.”

Pehton held her breath when Tumu turned around with a sad look on his featureless face.

Korac met the Tritan’s stare with his usual icy mask. This was a sensitive subject they all learned in Korac’s Verse recently. That Gale was the Icarean General’s first lover, and she mistreated him after.

“Apparently, your encounter changed Gale’s perception of her life. She confided in me about it. About how she never had a lover thrill her as much. How it made her contemplate her own happiness, for once, over the thousands Gale had saved. It rattled her trust in herself. Gale couldn’t ally with you because her distraction with you would endanger her mission. And it did. She slipped one scale in Cinder’s favor, and Primary Rem noticed. He rightly feared she’d considered activating the Chorus to destroy Enki. So he sent her with scant forces and sabotaged gear to face the galaxy’s deadliest weapon, and Nox executed her proficiently.”

Xelan looked at Korac, who turned his face away. Everyone else followed suit. This was a regret which couldn’t be mended, and the hurt it caused chilled the room.

Tumu stepped into Pehton’s field of vision and forced eye contact. “When another promising Lyrik came asking for my help to free the enslaved children across the Vast Collective, I knew I couldn’t resist.”

“No matter how much I asked.” Lamassau was staring at his hands as he said, “You took so much of Gale’s death on yourself, Tumi. I worried about you.” He reached out and squeezed the bigger Tritan’s bicep.

With a shadow in his eyes which belied his extreme age, Tumu stared into his lover’s face and pat the hand on his arm. Stiffly, he turned back to the map. “We’re all here now. It all culminates in this. Let’s talk strategy and let the long-dead rest for one day.”

Korac and Xelan returned to business, but Caedes stared across the three-dimensional image at Pehton. Did he feel it too? The weight of all these bricks stacked and mortared over them, waiting to fall?

“Are. You. All. Right?” He mouthed.

Pehton almost snorted. A man of few words. Literally. A light warmth reignited in her heart despite all this heavy shit. That’s how the Shadow survived all these trials. It wasn’t magic or special endurance. It was surrounding themselves with people who eased the strain.

“Yeah. I’m. Fine.”

Inappropriately, Caedes raked his eyes over her tiny stature. Pehton felt them on her shoulders, breasts, and hips as if he’d used his hands instead. It burned her cheeks. He nodded. Not smirked. Not grinned. It was a single dip of his chin, affirming they were on the same wavelength. Caedes was thinking of Pehton in the thick of this mess, and he wanted her to know it.

Someone cleared their throat, and Pehton’s eyes flicked to the source.

Fuck her. It was Korac. No smirk on his lips, but it sparkled in his eyes. He gestured to the cosmos-affecting strategy as if asking, “Is this boring you?”

Asshole. Pehton would never pick on him if he were flirting with Sagan—

Pablo rushed into the kitchen, and Xelan spun to face him. They spoke at the same time. “Is she awake?” “Tameka’s conscious and asking for you.”

A burden lifted off the Icarus, and the Traitor Prince glowed like a sun before he checked the others.

Tumu waved him off. “Return with Peaches. She should be here for the empire she’s building.”

Pehton caught the ghost of a smile on Caedes’ lips. He’d lived with Tameka for two years, resulting in a close friendship which Pehton respected, but it wasn’t that kind of smile, and it wasn’t only on his face. Lam and Korac also shared this secret expression. Even Pehton felt a twitch at her lips.

Tameka, Fury, promoted from Sovereign Ambassador to your majesty, raised as a human and trained to kill Icari, blazed a reputation across the galaxy. The Vast Collective needed a leader like her. Like Xelan.

Pehton couldn’t wait to see what Tameka would do to Remorse. She only hoped to get a swing in before he met his overdue end.