A Collection of Science Fiction & Space Opera Short Stories by T.K. Toppin

Author:T.K. Toppin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: T.K. Toppin
Published: 2023-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

BENGARIA’S WAR:––––––––MARYN’S OATH

— A prequel to BENGARIA’S WAR —

(Written in 2012 for an anthology collection. However, the story was never used.)

* * *

Battlecruiser Raven, along the borders of Wheta System.

“I’m grateful you saved me.” Maryn Rothlere shifted in the medi-cot. Her chest drummed with a rhythmic pain, and the pressure bandage wound tight around it constricted her breathing.

Maryn meant every word. Death had spared her this time. It was her fate to live. The mutinous intent of the Risar Clan must be reported, and as soon as possible.

Her eyes slid to the young ensign sitting on the stool next to her. She was well aware of how he stared back, waiting, watching. He was terribly young. And nervous. He perched on a piece of furniture too small and narrow for his tall, lanky frame. He had the appearance of someone who had grown far too quickly before the settling flesh of adulthood had a chance to take effect.

Could she trust this Outsider, this common settler race, with such information? The Nezu instinct in her rebelled at sharing anything about the Colony. It was not the Nezu way.

But he had called to her. While she lay in delirium, drifting through the cold depths of space in the tiny escape pod, she’d dreamed of him. Honest grey eyes had stared at her with an expression of such calm amid a tempest. In her dream, she had reached for him, but something like glass had stood in the way. She had cried out in anguish, called to him, desperate to touch him. To connect. She remembered his hand pressed against the glass, and it was as if the mere act had sent a calming tide through the barrier between them. He had kept watch over her, anchoring her with his presence.

And then, as she woke between breaks in her fever, he was always there, sitting beside her. It was as if the dream had never ended.

She brushed the disruptive thought aside. “What did you say your name was?”

The ensign blinked and pushed up his neat brows, making his narrow face longer. “Ensign Bengaria. Sul Bengaria.” The way he said it, he didn’t sound convinced it was his own name. He had a low voice, quiet and reserved. And awkward. She liked that. It calmed her.

He continued to stare. Maryn found his expression laden with curiosity and disbelief, as if he’d seen a miracle.

“Bengaria.” Maryn offered an anaemic smile. “A strong name, as is Sul. Befitting of someone destined to rescue lost souls.”

Sul blinked again, and his small mouth parted as if to form an O. Instead, he broke into a crooked half-smile as a warm flush of pink washed over his face.

If Maryn didn’t know better, he was scared. His gangly frame seemed to tremble, and she suppressed the urge to laugh. If she yelled, he’d likely die on the spot.

“You know who I am?” she ventured, watching him through her lashes.

He nodded. “Nezu. Warrior.” His eyes wandered over her body, as if searching for secreted weapons.

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