*Ready, Nate?* Isabelle asked.
Nate arched his spine, scanning the rest of the sleeping dormitory. Snores, both soft and loud. The group's positive energy from their visitor's day had quickly drained away in the face of Rivera's brutal training scheme.
He wanted to collapse into his pillow and never leave it, but he'd promised Ana. Promised he'd do better.
And that meant bending the rules.
He gently left his bed and tiptoed around the beds, avoiding wayward boots and bags.
Bastian let out a loud snore, the unhealthy whine of a thirty year old ship engine. Nate froze.
Out in the corridor, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He could do this.
To the medbay. In the dark, the corridors became eerie. In each shadow, he saw Rivero's glaring face. But she never came.
The medbay. His old friend. He'd spent more time there than any other recruit. Every duel, skirmish, obstacle course, he ended up with some bone that needed resetting, some cut that needed patching up. And earlier that day, when he'd been getting the good Doctor to reset his shoulder, he'd left a little something.
The room was alarmed to stop trainees from stealing the drugs within, as much good as that had done him when he'd been attacked. But the alarm only kicked in when the door was shut.
And a little chewing gum on the strike plate stopped the dead bolt from sensing it was locked. Nate simply walked in.
When the sun rose, he had a duel with Tanzin the Tiger, the bald man that fought like the devil from the Tigers team. He knew he'd lose...unless.
Oh, yeah, plug it into me.
Isabelle said enthusiastically.
Why have you got to make this weird?
Nate grumbled, disconnecting the medbay's computers from the analytical and pain-relieving state of the art med-bed.
Just do it already.
He hooked Isabelle in to the machines.
Oh yeah.
She sighed in bliss.
It can't possibly feel that good.
Nate accused.
Three, two, one...and it's gone.
What good is a star that burns too bright?
Isabelle bemoaned.
*Have you got it or not?*
*Oh yeah, I got it. Just you wait until your fight. We're back on the winning road, baby.*
*It's never that easy.* Nate sighed, but he was smiling despite himself. At least he was doing
something.
He cleaned up after himself and scampered back to the dormitory. Inside, as he slipped into bed, he caught the slightest movement.
Lunar stared at him with unblinking eyes.
"I...was just...yeah." Nate whispered lamely.
"Goodnight, Nathan Clancy." She whispered back.
He gave her his brightest smile. "Goodnight, Lunar Moon."
***
Tanzin kicked his legs high into the air, balancing with just a single hand as he whirled around, showing off for the crowd with a big grin. His head was shaved and he wore a mockery of a monk's robes — this was a man that had long forsaken any vows he'd taken.
Behind him, the Tigers smirked. They were confident.
They had every right to be, Nate thought. Tanzin was a frightening slip of a man who danced around like a butterfly and stung like a fucking rhino.
Nate was a perennial loser who could barely see the punches that hit him. But today, today would be different.
Or at least that was the plan.
*You're sure about this?* He asked Isabelle.
*I've told you already.* She said exasperatedly in his mind. *His calf, the back of his shin. He's extended that muscle too many times and got it fixed on the cheap in some backwater. Hit it enough times and he won't be able to stand.*
Nate looked at him dubiously. The man was dancing around like he was in a nightclub.
"You know the rules." Rivero eyed him as she said it. Nate looked back innocently. "Three, two, one."
Rivero stepped back.
Tanzin swayed from side to side, drunkenly, legs wide, arms following. In the crowd, somebody snorted. Nobody was falling for that, not again.
Nate stood still, keeping his arms up. He just needed to guard, wait for the right opportunity.
Tanzin bored quickly. He swayed forward and jabbed a low left kick that turned into a spinning right kick. A heavy heel landed on Nate's outstretched hands, but not before he responded with a dirty jabbed foot as Tanzin landed.
Right on his calf.
Tanzin didn't wince. But his smile slipped.
*
Hello
, Mommy.* Isabelle said.
"Bad landing?" Nate said cheerily.
"What is your people's phrase?" Tanzin rotated his neck slowly. "The pride before the fall?"
Tanzin faked a punch; Nate dodged to the right, but he'd been read like a book — Tanzin's left cracked him across the face. His nose crunched but didn't break.
Nate just smiled, trying for another shin-kicking low swipe, hoping to swipe the calf behind it. Everytime he did, he overextended, earning another hit to the face.
But he could take the pain.
He always had.
Tanzin stepped into his guard, raining down punches, but Nate just held him, laughing through the pain, kicking that reddening calf.
"The fuck is wrong with you, man?" Tanzin growled angrily.
"Honestly, I wish I knew." Nate spat blood and wiped away the snot spiraling from his disjointed nose.
Tanzin's next kick made the room spin, but Nate's response smashed his calf as it landed.
"Hope you'll be alright for the ten kilo run later." Nate taunted.
*He's slow, Nate.* Isabelle noted.
It was true. He was moving gingerly, warily.
Nate sensed a trap. He faked a launch forwards and just about leaned back to avoid a one-two jab that grazed the skin on his nose.
But it wasn't all for show. Tanzin couldn't retreat fast enough, and Nate felt his window closing. He stepped forward to launch a rabbit kick into his calf, rewarded with a roar of pain.
He didn't stop there. Tanzin was there for the taking, stationary.
All he had to do was dance. He took three steps to every one of Tanzin's.
The man fell within seconds to a barrage of clean blows and Nate didn't stop until Rivero separated them, until Tanzin's face was an ugly red distortion, a reflection in a funhouse mirror.
Behind him, his team roared. Bastian picked him up and practically threw him back at his team-mates. Hakeem clapped his back so hard it hurt. Lita kissed his cheek. Lunar just palmed his face and smiled, that mysterious smile. Even Graziano shoulder-barged him in some strange affection way.
"That's the fucking shit, fuck yeah, fuck." Graz said incoherently, grinning.
The rest of the trainees clapped, some cheering. The Tigers looked distraught.
When his team let him go, Rivero held his arm high, announcing the winner.
"The winner is Clancy! Remember, winners do whatever it takes." She caught his eye and gave the slightest of nods.
Did she know?
He decided she didn't.
She let him go to be surrounded by his team, and for a moment he let himself feel the glory of victory, after so many losses. The smiles so wide his face hurt, the touch of hands on his back, shoulders rubbing, hair tousles.
He'd almost forgotten.
It was like when he and his squad returned from battle, that desperate almost biological need to remind themselves that they still lived. Loud crowing, dirty jokes, boisterousness that turned to drunkenness if there was any liquor nearby.
It felt good.
But through it all, he felt a burning deep inside, an itch that he couldn't scratch.
He really wanted to tell Ana that he'd won, finally.
Would she be proud of him? He'd cheated, sorta, kinda, really.
But she'd told him to start winning, whatever the cost, just to remember what it felt like.
And it felt good.
*Ana is always proud of you.* Isabelle reminded him.
And wasn't that true?
***
Ana stared out at the stars, resisting the urge to check their navigation plans again. She'd already optimized the route three times. And then re-checked it three times more, making sure she couldn't speed them up by a minute more.
Love is love is love. A book on marriage, on partnership, on love, by a Lunari couple who'd been married a hundred years.
Something she'd picked up on her armguard while feeling particularly lonely, reminiscing over her time with Nate.
Giving is the most important part of love. Love is a doing word. It does not pour out of your pores. It is not in your aura. It is in your actions. You've read all this and more in previous chapters.
And yet how does this change when your partner is in desperate need, who struggles and flails and looks to be drowning?
If your partner loves you, then they will try to sink alone. They will drown themselves rather than risk splashing you with even a drop of water.
And if you love them, you'll have to give even more of yourself.
You'll need to strip naked, strip off your self-doubt and insecurity and fear of being too pushy, fear of being rejected, fear of being unloving or too loving or even the fear of drowning yourself.
You'll need to jump in.
Because when they're in need, sometimes all they need is...
You.
Ana flicked the holo-screen away, sighing. Nate needed her. She'd felt in his touch, in his peppered kisses, in the way he'd been reluctant to let her leave his embrace. In the way he stroked his fingers down her spine. And then crossed his arms behind her and squeezed her tight, burying her head in his neck so she couldn't see his face.
She didn't need to see his face to know his heart.
And his heart hurt.
She
