CassaDark

Prologue:CassaFate CassaFate first appeared in Heroes of Phenomena, a collaboration of authors and musicians produced by Audiomachine. A message from Drent! Bassan scanned the note, eager to hear from his fellow Kintal friend. In five months, Drent would complete training on the planet Cassa. He could come home. The last line stopped Bassan cold. ‘No guarantee I’ll return to Tgren though.’ Damn. His mother’s voice rang in his head. Time to eat! I’m coming, Bassan thought, replying in kind with his telepathic mind. Bassan joined his parents. His father offered a nod as formal as the uniform he wore. His mother’s smile offset the tone, and Bassan dove into his breakfast. His father scooped a chunk of the thick Tgren dish in front of him. “Your counsel session is tomorrow?” Bassan swallowed and reached for his drink. “Yes, sir.” “I understand you’re in the top ten percent?” “Cassan standards.” Bassan shrugged off the accomplishment. “Top one percent Tgren though.” His mother smiled and Bassan sat up straighter. “What matters are your Cassan scores,” his father said. “Those determine acceptance to the Academy.” Bassan bristled and stared at his father. Eyes as grey as the hair on the man’s head greeted him. The commander of the Cassan base presided now, leaving no room for argument. But I can’t leave Tgren. I’m linked forever with the Kintal ship. It represents me, knows me. I can’t lose the connection. His father scooped another bite. “Your work here on Tgren’s Kintal ship will definitely help.” Drent’s message flashed in Bassan’s mind. No guarantee I’ll return. “I’m not going to Cassa.” The words dropped with an audible crash in the room. “Not going to Cassa?” his father demanded. “Why would you pass up such an opportunity?” “Because,” Bassan said, mustering his courage, “I can attend the Tgren school here and complete my training faster.” His father rested his fist on the table. “The Cassan program may take longer, but you’ll be accredited to work across the galaxy. The Tgren schooling is only accepted here. Don’t narrow your opportunities.” “But I want to remain here.” His chest tight, Bassan struggled to prevent his mental voice from projecting. Or his raging emotions. “Bassan.” His mother stretched her hand across the table. “I know you don’t want to leave, but it’s an enormous honor.” “I know,” Bassan said, slumping in his chair. “But I can’t leave the Tgren ship.” His father shoved his plate forward and arose. “We’ll discuss it later.” Those words haunted Bassan all day. Nobody understands me. Even the prospect of his final class of the day didn’t elicit joy. He rode his cycle to the Kintal ship in a daze. The glittering blue haze of ancient metal greeted him as he rounded the last corner. The sight of the ship, exposed and inviting, did little to lift his spirits. Bassan located his instructor in the control room. Translating the once-lost language held scarce challenge for him. Not when his mix of Cassan and Tgren blood assisted him with his Kintal ancestors’ language. But the class placed Bassan on the ship, and that pleased him. He became aware of someone behind him. As he spun around, the wide eyes of the senior science officer greeted him. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” Officer Mevine said, holding up his thin hands. “Sir!” Bassan straightened his posture. Drent’s father deserved his respect. No one outside of the Kintal community knew more about this ship than Senior Officer Mevine. “Your instructor said I could borrow you,” Mevine said. “Yes, sir. Of course.” Curious, Bassan followed. They traversed the glow of the corridor. The rings of blue light were the same in every hallway, but their route struck a chord. Even the ramp carried familiarity. He’d been here before. The control room over the pods! Excitement grew with each step. He’d not entered this area in ten years. Not since he’d touched a forbidden console, downloading a special code into his mind. Drent had warned him… Bassan! Mevine thought, a patient smile coloring his lips. You saved all eleven races because you held the code. I’m glad you touched that console. Why am I so bad at shielding my mind? They entered the room and Bassan glanced to his left. That particular console sat in an alcove, its panel alive now with data. They strode past to a station at the end of the room. A curved screen dominated the wall, shimmering with light. Mevine’s hand waved over the console. “This system recorded the journey of your mother’s ancestors to Tgren, including the period when the people disembarked. Would you like to see it?” Bassan snapped to attention. The moment the Tgrens awoke from their long sleep and left their pods to begin a new life here? “Yes, please!” Mevine ran his fingers across the crystal surface, tapping a sequence. He gestured to the metallic orb at the base. Nerves tingling, Bassan placed his hand over the cold ball. The screen sparked to life. It grew dark and Bassan leaned forward, excited to catch the first image. Streaks of green appeared, forming a pattern that trailed into the distance. The pods! Dark forms moved, their thin bodies outlined against the green capsules. One passed across the sensor. The body’s gentle curves glistened with moisture. A Tgren woman! Bassan grinned. So realistic. He lifted his free hand to grasp the top of the console. He missed and staggered forward. Wait a minute! He no longer watched on a screen. He stood in the pod room itself. What’s happening? He searched for the woman. She continued walking, following the others toward a distant yellow glow. Wait! His left foot came forward. He fought to maintain balance and swung his right foot. It was difficult to see in the gloom. And yet the glowing, empty pods stung his eyes. Dampness permeated the air, humid and thick, but dryer air beckoned ahead. Cleaner air. What surrounded him now reeked of recycled air and perspiration. On cue, sweat dripped from his brow and fell on his bare arms. It stung. He raised his hands to his face. Globs of a yellow-green substance covered his palm. The slime slithered down his arm, and Bassan realized his whole body was covered. His breath quickened. “Bassan?” The room faded. Bassan grasped for the nearest empty pod. He needed to reach that yellow glow. He had to get out. “Bassan!” Something wrapped around his wrist, severing the connection. He gasped and pulled his arm free. Bassan’s eyes adjusted. He stood in the control room. Mevine leaned against the console, hands raised in warning. Bassan caught his breath and gasped. “What happened?” Mevine said. Bassan glanced at his hands. They glistened with sweat, but the slime was gone. “I was there,” he said. “Where?” “When the Tgrens were leaving the ship.” “Bassan, that’s impossible.” He lowered his hands and faced Officer Mevine. “Sir, I was there. It was hot. And humid. It even smelled damp. It was dark, and yet my eyes burned from the pod’s light. And this yellow-green slime covered my body…” Mevine’s mouth opened. “How could you know that?” Bassan clenched his fists. “Because I was there. I tell you, I’m connected to this ship. Ever since I touched that console, I’ve felt the bond. It remembers the first Kintal. It remembers me!” The science officer’s gaze shifted. Bassan spun around. The cold eyes of his father greeted him, and Bassan’s enthusiasm wavered. His father stepped closer and peered at the console. Placing his hands behind his back, the commander turned his attention to Bassan. “Wait for me on the first level.” Father, please… Now. His father’s mental voice left no room for argument. Bassan’s heart tightened and he raced for the exit. He barreled down the ramp and didn’t stop until he’d reached the pod room entrance. He grasped the edge of the door frame and sighed, clinging to his vision. I was there. Among the Tgrens leaving this ship. Damn, if I’m forced to leave, I’ll never have another opportunity. Bassan stared at the empty room, lost in his cheerless thoughts. A touch on his mind caused him to jump. He turned and a steel gaze greeted him. Father, he thought, dropping his chin. He didn’t trust his voice yet. You really witnessed Tgrens leaving this room? The question startled him. Bassan met his father’s eyes. For once, they didn’t appear so unforgiving. I saw them! he thought. Bassan pulled his fists to his chest. I was with the Tgrens as they left the pods. Father, the ship knew it was me. I believe it could show me more. Bassan… His name shot through the fiber of his being. Bassan stepped closer and straightened his shoulders. Father, you trusted me before. Please, let me stay on Tgren. Let me fulfill the role this ship has given me. His father shook his head. Bassan steeled himself for disappointment. “Bassan, I want the best for you,” his father said. “And that means giving you the opportunity to pursue your own goals. I had to fight for my future and prove myself.” He paused, his stoic expression softening. “You can attend the Tgren school.” Shock rippled through Bassan and his mouth fell open. I can stay? Yes. This is where you belong. Weight fell from his shoulders. Bassan stepped forward and hesitated. His father offered a wry grin. Bassan accepted the invitation and hugged his father. If your mother asks, it was my idea, his father thought. Bassan smiled. I won’t say a word.