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⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
“Vekh’in’daro, don’t make me come in there and drag you out by your ear! You’re running late enough as is!”
Khinda rolled her eyes and gave her uniform jacket one last tug. “It’s FINE mom, I’m almost done!”. She wasn’t even that late, not really. And besides - today was the first day that the newest Junior CEDF Training Corp recruits were allowed to wear their uniforms at school! It had to be perfect…
Khinda’s door opened and her mom’s face appeared, eyes glowing under furrowed brows. “You can admire yourself later. Now come on, your Uncle Khavid’s been waiting for the last fifteen minutes to take you to school today, and unless you want to miss muster, you need to get going .”
“Yes, ma’aaaaaam.” Khinda groaned, then grabbed her backpack and scuttled out of her room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen of their farmhouse. Uncle Khavid grinned, leaning against a countertop with the practiced ease of a life slowly lived.
“Well, now, just look at you, Little Wing! Stars, Khulum, how is she even old enough for that uniform?”
Before her mom could answer, Khinda flashed him a proud grin. “I’m 12! You were at my birthday, Uncle! You know that!”
“Oh, I know,” he said with a wistful sigh. “Time really does fly. Now come on, stand straight! Lemmie take a holo for your Aunt Cyema, she’ll be over the sun with pride.”
Khinda dropped her backpack and scooched away from it, then stood at attention just like the instructors had taught. No matter how much she tried to look as impassive as her Aunt’s official CEDF portrait, Khinda couldn’t help the wide smile that stretched across her face. Her mom and uncle smiled back and Khavid clicked the holo shutter. She couldn’t wait to show her Aunt that holo! Even better, she couldn’t wait for Aunt Cyema to come back on shore leave and she could show off her uniform in person!
“Honestly, you remind me so much of ‘Ema,” Uncle Khavid praised. “You shoulda seen how happy she was when she joined the Junior Corps too. She was so excited, even I got a little jealous!”
“Alright! Enough dilly dally!” Khulum insisted, eyes still bright with pride. “Give me a hug, and you two get going.”
Khinda scooped up her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and in a swift, instinctive motion, wrapped her arms around her mom’s neck. Her grip was firm but brief, like she was already half out the door in her mind and off marching around with her fellow apprentice warriors.
From the vantage point of her mom’s hug, Khinda could see through the front window. Something caught her eye -- two men, both in uniform, climbing out of a speeder in the driveway. Her brow furrowed, and she pulled back from the hug, glancing at her mom with wide eyes. “They’re… they’re not here because I’m late… are they?” She looked between mom and Unclde Khavid. “Are they?”
Khulum’s expression changed in an instant. Her hand, once gently resting on Khinda’s shoulder, tightened and her grip turning rigid. Her face went gray as she stared out the window, frozen, and the warmth that had filled the room moments earlier seemed to vanish. She shot a panicked glance toward Khavid. He turned, meeting her eyes, and the shift in his face was unmistakable. All the excitement, pride, and nostalgic energy he’d carried vanished, replaced by something grim and cold. Khinda couldn’t quite name what she saw in his eyes, but the air between them felt thick, like winter had set in suddenly and early.
She shivered, the unease inside her growing. “Who are they?” she asked again, more insistent this time.
Uncle Khavid turned toward the door, his jaw tight. “Stay back,” he said quietly but firmly. Khulum’s breathing quickened beside her, her grip still tight on Khinda’s shoulder.
“I can’t do this again,” Khulum whispered, her voice cracking and fingers on Khinda’s shoulder trembling slightly. “Khavid, it can’t happen again. It just can’t...”
“I know,” Khavid answered, his voice low and face having turned as ashen as hers. He placed a strong, steady hand on her shoulder, trying to ground her in the moment. It didn’t feel like enough. He turned back toward the door.
Khinda’s heart raced as Uncle Khavid opened the door. Two men in black CEDF uniforms stood there, their postures formal and stiff. The taller one spoke first wearing an air that was both brisk and professional.
“Sorry for the interruption, Sir. Ma’ams. I’m Sergeant Aimcy’rol’timu and this is Warrior Rilto’nif’umi. We’re looking for Vekh’avi’darti. His neighbor said he was at this address this morning?”
Khavid nodded. His voice didn’t shake exactly, but Khinda knew it sounded different than his usual rough confidence. “I am he,” he answered simply.
The man with the honor chains handed Uncle Khavid an envelope. “You are listed as the next of kin for Aimcy’em’arati, born Vekh’em’arati?”
Khinda’s mom drew in a gasping breath and her grip on Khinda grew rigid. Khinda’s eyes widened as she felt her mom’s fear permeate the whole room.
“Yes,” Uncle Khavid answered hoarsely, extending a hand for the envelope. “I am her brother.”
The other uniformed man took a few seconds to scan Uncle Khavid’s face with a handheld scanner, then nodded to the officer with the honor chains.
Sergeant Cyrolti nodded back and released the envelope into Khavid’s care. His tone went from businesslike to sympathetic in an instant. “Lieutenant Aimcy’em’arati was seriously injured in combat and was evacuated from her deployment zone. She was just admitted to a military hospital on Naporar within the last two hours. May we come in? We can discuss your rights and options, sir, and answer any questions we know you probably have for us.”
Khinda’s mom wobbled and let out a long breath. “S-so she’s not dead?” Her voice was pleading, and the reality of the situation slammed suddenly into Khinda as she realized exactly what was going on.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO AUNT CYEMA?!” Khinda burst out of her mom’s grasp and marched straight up to the two uniformed men. She summoned every ounce of bravery in her body and stood in front of them, chin high. She felt their eyes on her, and for a brief moment, she caught a flicker of surprise, maybe even respect for her boldness. Still, their expressions softened, and one of the men bent down slightly to be closer to her eye level.
“We know this is hard, Apprentice Warrior,” the sergeant said gently, his voice kind but steady. He’d obviously recognized her uniform and Khinda was taken a little aback at the courtesy he gave her by using her rank. “But Lieutenant Aimcy’em’arati is alive. She’s hurt, but she’s going to get the care she needs.”
Khinda’s chest tightened, her breathing shallow, but she managed a small nod. The other man spoke next, addressing the whole room. It was a practiced couple of phrases. Obviously these men had taken this kind of news to countless families. “Vekh’avi’darti, you’re permitted to visit Lieutenant Aimcy’em’arati on Naporar while she recovers in the hospital. You’ll be given a line of communication to a representative of her care team, and they’ll keep you informed about her condition.”
Khulum wrung her hands a bit, not knowing what to do with them, before glancing at the men and going into what Khinda liked to call her ‘business mode’. With a bit more steadiness in her voice, her mom asked “Would you like to sit down? We can talk this all over at the table.”
The sergeant exchanged a glance with his fellow warrior and nodded. “Thank you. That would be appreciated.” Khavid pulled out chairs for them, and they sat down, the weight of their news hanging in the room.
Khinda stood off to the side for a moment before slowly joining them. She didn’t want to sit, not really, but something about having everyone together at the table felt grounding.
As they settled, Uncle Khavid cleared his throat. “Can Khulum go visit her on Naporar instead?” He gestured toward Khinda’s mom. “Vekh’ulu’maru. She should be listed on my sister’s forms too under ‘domestic partner’. She... she should be the one by Cyema’s side.”
The men exchanged glances, then the sergeant nodded. “We’ll see what we can arrange. If she’s in the forms, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
Khulum, finally finding her voice, nodded and added, “And after the worst is passed, I’d like her to come home to recover.” Khavid glanced at her, but Khulum was firm on the point. “Once … you know. Once she ain’t in danger anymore.”
Sergeant Cyrolti replied softly. “We understand how important it is for her to be with family.” Khinda noted that didn’t exactly contain any promises.
“We understand this is overwhelming,” Sergeant Cyrolti went on. “We can answer any questions you have, and we’ll explain what options are available for Lieutenant Cyema’s recovery. She’ll be receiving excellent care, but you … said you’d prefer her back home?” He gave a glance at his fellow. “You understand how much care and nursing she’ll require, right?”
Khulum, still shaky but hopeful. “I just want her to come home to recover . Quick as she can. Obviously not while she needs medical intervention, but once she’s off of any support…”
“So to convalesce?” Warrior Tonifu interjected before his officer could reply. “We’ll do our best to see what can be allowed-.”
“Though please consider,” Sergeant Cyrolti interrupted. “We Aimcy are a Great family. And she’s one of us now. We have excellent facilities-”
“She should be with her blood ,” Khavid insisted. “Besides. She’s only a merit adoptive. You can spare one merit adoptive, can’t you?”
The officer leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “It’s not typical. But given your request … we’ll do our best to try and help facilitate that. The final decision will be with her medical team and the Aimcy CEDF liaisons, but we can start the process of facilitating the discussion.”
“We’ll update you as soon as we can about the arrangements,” Warrior Tonifu added. “For now, please know that Lieutenant Aimcy’em’arati is in stable condition. The medical team on Naporar is the best in the Ascendancy, and she’s receiving top care.”
Khavid leaned forward, his voice steadier now. “Thank you.” He glanced at Khulum, who gave him a grateful nod. “We’ll appreciate everything you can do for us of course.”
The officers nodded back, their expressions calm and measured. “We’re here to help in any way we can. Especially in the efforts to get Lieutenant Cyema back up and at it.
As the officers prepared their questis to fill out some paperwork Khinda blurted out, “I want to go to Naporar too.”
Khulum sighed and brushed a hand over her daughter’s hair. “I know, ‘Inda, but... we need to wait. Let’s see what they say first, okay?”
Khinda bit her lip and nodded reluctantly, though the unease still sat heavy in her stomach.
The conversation continued with more details -- plans for Khulum’s visit, updates on Cyema’s condition, lots and lots and lots of forms to sign -- and through it all, Khinda sat quietly, the words washing over her. Her mind was stuck on the thought of her aunt coming home, of what shape she’d be in, and of maybe keeping her at home for longer than usual. Maybe if that happened, things could return to some kind of normal? And Aunt Cyema would be so proud of her status in the JCEDF! She’d show off her uniform. Aunt Cyema could help show her how to march and help with her new drills.
Sure she was hurt right now, but she’d get better, right? And then they’d have so much extra time together. This deployment was supposed to last a year. Look at all of the extra months they’d just gained as a family!
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
Khulum left for Naporar the next day on the same military shuttle as Sergeant Cyrolti and Warrior Tonifu. Uncle Khavid moved into the house to stay with Khinda while she was gone, but also promised to stay if Aunt Cyema was allowed to come home too. She’d need more care than one person could give and he was determined to stay and help.
At first Khinda was excited. The fear had worn off pretty quickly and all she could focus on was the fact that Cyema was coming home . They’d talk and play tactica, and everything would go back to how it was before she’d left for this deployment really quickly. Sure, Aunt Cyema was hurt now , but Ascendnacy doctors were amazing. She’d be back up and around in no time.
But as the days passed, her Uncle seemed more and more dour. He’d tell Khinda all was well and that her mom was with Aunt Cyema and the doctors were doing their job and that they were the best. All things that Khinda expected to hear. Though his mood did not match those things at all. She was patient for a whole week … but since the adults weren’t going to tell her what was going on, Khinda decided to take matters into her own hands.
Looking around the den, noting her uncle outside on the patio, Khinda carefully slipped her hand into Khavid's bag, feeling around until her fingers closed around his comm unit. She knew he and her mom had a whole log on conversations stored here and she was going to find them. She’d find out what was going on. And hopefully she’d learn that it was all overblown, Uncle Khavid was just sad, yes Aunt Cyema was hurt but fine, and everything would be fine.
Just fine.
Khinda hated doing this -- sneaking behind their backs and stealing comm units -- but what choice did she have? If only they’d just tell her what was going on, she wouldn’t have to.
With a quiet sigh, she pulled the comm free and tucked it under her arm. Glancing around once more, she scurried back to her room, the door shutting behind her with a soft click. Khinda flopped onto her bed, scrolled through the messages, and quickly found the conversation between her mom and Uncle Khavid. I shouldn’t have to do this, she thought bitterly. Why don’t they just tell me what’s actually going on?
She clicked on the one labled “‘Ulum”.
[01:03] ‘Avid: How you holdin’ up?
[01:02] ‘Ulum: It’s horrible. She ain’t even awake yet. They’re keepin’ her under ‘cause they had to reconstruct part of her hip and said it’s easier on her this way while the bone regrows. There’s so many tubes and machines. It’s a total nightmare.
[01:03] ‘Avid: She’ll be ok, Ulum. I asked how YOU’RE holdin’ up.
[01:05] ‘Ulum: Awful. Just awful. I don’t have any other words for it. Been cryin’ the whole time whenever I’m alone. I guess I’m just glad you stayed with ‘Inda. No one should see ‘Ema like this, but especially not ‘Inda. ‘Ema’s her hero, I dunno what’d happen.
[01:07] … Thank you though. For given’ up your spot for me to be with her instead.
[01:08] ‘Avid: Hey, when she wakes up, you’d be the first person she’d wanna see. Not my ugly face.
[01:08] ‘Ulum: Heh. Don’t sell yourself short. You two are close as anything.
[01:09] ‘Avid: Yeah, but she loves you. That counts for a whole damn lot.
[01:09] ‘Ulum: <3 <3 <3
Khinda scrolled through the messages, her heart sinking deeper with each one. There were hundreds, and all of the updates were bad. Worse than she’d thought. Reconstructing bone? Aunt Cyema wasn’t doing well, and her mom hadn’t told her how serious it really was. The more she read, the heavier it all felt.
A few tears slipped down her cheeks, and she wiped them away quickly, but more followed. She felt the frustration rising. The anger at being kept out of the loop, the helplessness of knowing there was nothing she could do. She curled up on her side, the comm resting next to her, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. How DARE they not tell her any of this? How DARE they!
It wasn’t long before the tears, mixed with exhaustion, took over. She drifted off like that, curled up and clutching a new pain she didn’t know how to let go of.
*
Khinda woke up sometime later with Uncle Khavid sitting next to her on her bed, his arm draped gently around her shoulders. She blinked, her eyes heavy, and slowly sat up, realizing she was still curled around his comm. Her uncle’s presence brought a quiet sense of comfort, though she was still angry, and the weight of what she’d read still hung in the back of her mind.
Khavid gave her a small squeeze, his voice soft. “It’s ok, you know. She’ll be fine. Might be some stuff to adjust to ‘round here as she gets better, but it’ll all be ok.”
Khinda sniffed and wiped her eyes, not quite trusting herself to speak yet. She glanced at the comm, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration all over again. Before she could say anything, Khavid continued.
“And I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” he said quietly. “From now on, I’ll make sure you know what’s going on. No more sneaking around, alright?”
“Promise?” She managed to ask.
“I promise,” he answered.
Khinda looked at him, then slowly nodded and gave him back his comm. “Okay.”
He wrapped her in a tight hug and they sat like that for a good long while.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
Khinda couldn’t focus all day. She’d barely heard a word her teachers had said, but they didn’t push her. They all knew that today was the day her aunt was coming home. A soldier coming back wounded was serious, but the fact that Cyema was being allowed to recover here among the Vekh rather than at an Aimcy resthouse felt like a blessing her family still couldn’t quite believe.
As soon as Khinda stepped off the school transport, she was running. Her legs pounded the gravel, her breath coming in quick bursts as the sight of her house grew closer. Her eyes swept over the long driveway, taking in the military medical transport and the sleek speeder with the Aimcy family crest on its doors. Her heart raced, her mind only on one thing -- Aunt Cyema.
She threw her backpack down on the front porch without a second thought, bolting inside. The house was a blur of motion. Nurses bustled through the hallway and her Uncle Khavid spoke quietly with a formal-looking woman in Aimcy colors. None of it mattered. Khinda weaved through them all, her feet carrying her straight toward the den, where she knew Cyema would be.
“AUNT CYEMA??”
And there she was. Thank the stars. Khinda’s whole body relaxed as she took the last few steps gently. They’d replaced one of the couches in the den with the newly installed hospital bed, but she didn’t even wonder or care where the couch had gone. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered right now except that her aunt was here and alive and safe.
A wide smile worked its way slowly up her Aunt’s bruised face. “Come here, sweetie.” Aunt Cyema’s voice was hoarse and the hand she reached out with had an IV stuck into it, but she was safe . It would be ok. She’d be ok again.
Khinda shoved past her mom and another uniformed medic and threw her arms around her Aunt, climbing partway onto the hospital bed to do so.
They stayed like that for a long moment, Khinda burying her face in the rough fabric of Cyema’s blanket, her arms wrapped tightly around her aunt. It felt like if she let go, Cyema might disappear all over again. Khinda could feel her own heartbeat thudding in her chest, but beneath it was the steady, fragile rise and fall of her aunt’s breath. Alive. Safe. It was as if the weight of the past few weeks was melting away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming relief that made Khinda’s throat tighten with emotion.
Cyema gently stroked her niece’s hair, her touch weak but steady. She didn’t say anything at first, just held Khinda close, letting the quiet between them settle, heavy with everything unspoken. For Cyema, it seemed like enough just to be home and surrounded by the people who mattered most, with Khinda right there. She held on to her like she’d never let go.
Finally, Aunt Cyema let out a raspy chuckle. “Hey. It’s all ok now,” she whispered, her fingers brushing through Khinda’s hair one last time before she gently nudged her back. “Come on then. Stand back. Lemmie look at you.
Right. Khinda’d forgotten that she’d been wearing her Junior CEDF Training Corp uniform. They’d had muster today afterall. She reluctantly extracted herself from the hug and took a step back, tugging her jacket straight and squaring her shoulders like she’d been taught.
Aunt Cyema’s smile widened. “That’s my girl. Look how proud you are. The Lioaoins would be running from their posts at just the sight of my Apprentice Warrior.”
Khinda tried to smile at that, but felt it fading almost immediately. “But … they didn’t run from you.”
Cyema shook her head with a low tsk tsk . “Oh, they did, don’t worry. They just … got in a lucky few shots is all.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
Uncle Khavid had moved to the old sofa in the living room that same day, giving the bedroom back to her mom. They all said he was staying to help care for Cyema, though Khinda could tell he needed to be there as much as anyone for his own sake. The house felt fuller with everyone home and the first few days had been hopeful, even a little peaceful. Aunt Cyema slept through most of them. Khinda’s mom said it was because of all of the medications she was still on. Stars, Khinda was relieved. Hugging Cyema again, hearing her laugh despite the pain ... it all made Khinda feel like everything might be alright after all.
But the nights were different.
One night during that first week, Khinda was woken by the sound of muffled wails drifting up from downstairs. She sat up in bed, her heart pounding in her chest. Without thinking, she rushed to her door and pulled it open, just in time to see her mom across the hall doing the same.
“Stay put,” her mom said firmly, already halfway out the door.
Khinda didn’t listen.
She followed her mother down the stairs, keeping her distance but close enough to hear everything that was going on. The cries were louder now, coming from the den. As she neared, Khinda stayed hidden behind the doorway, peeking around the corner.
Uncle Khavid was already beside Cyema, who was sitting up on the hospital bed covered in sweat, her face twisted in fear and her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She clutched her blanket like it was a lifeline. Khavid’s voice was low and soothing as he gently held her arm. “You’re home, Cyema. You’re on Schesa. It’s alright. We’re here.We’re all here together. You’re safe.”
Khulum was at her partner’s side in an instant, her voice soft and reassuring. “You’re safe, love. You’re home with us now. It’s just a bad dream.”
The wailing slowly quieted. Khinda watched as Aunt Cyema’s panic slowly ebbed, her wide eyes starting to focus on the room around her. Her breaths slowed, though her hands still shook.
“I’m… home?” Cyema’s voice was hoarse, uncertain.
“Yes, love, ” Khulum whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from Cyema’s forehead. “You’re home. You’re on Schesa.”
Cyema nodded slowly, her trembling starting to ease. “I’m on Schesa…” she repeated, her voice barely audible. “Just a dream…oh, thank the ancestors!…”
Khinda stood frozen in place, watching from the doorway as the reality of her aunt’s suffering settled in. The woman who had once been so strong now seemed so fragile. It was too much. She turned and ran back upstairs, her feet barely touching the steps as she hurried to her room.
Once in her room, she slammed the door shut, threw herself onto the bed, and buried her face in the pillow, letting the tears come as she tried to block out the sounds of the night.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
Khinda came home from school later than usual, her uniform wrinkled and her mind heavy. She had skipped muster again, choosing instead to wander through the fields, feeling the weight of each step press into the soil. The open air had given her space to think, but now, as she approached the house, her thoughts felt no clearer.
A medical vehicle sat in the driveway, but it didn’t make her pause. The nurse came often, checking in on her aunt. It was normal now.
Inside, she heard low voices from the kitchen. Khinda slipped off her boots and quietly made her way toward the sound, curiosity pulling her closer.
"I’m sorry, ma’am, but we just can’t continue with the same level of painkillers," the nurse was saying, her tone firm but not unkind. "It’s been two weeks since Lieutenant Aimcy’em’arati was moved to convalescence. That’s the maximum duration for a regime of cora’dyn . Any more, and we risk damage to her stomach and liver, not to mention the potential for dependency. I’ve brought a supply of tre’tam’ax instead. Give her one every four hours, no more, and only for the next two weeks. After that, she should be ready for over-the-counter options like ibu’pro’fen. I’ll check in before then, of course."
There was a long pause before Khulum spoke. "Thank you," she said, but her voice was thin. Khinda knew that tone. Her mom didn’t like this but had no choice. "I’ll keep you updated."
Khinda’s throat tightened as she stood in the hallway, listening to the exchange out of sight. Her mother sounded tired -- not physically, but in a way Khinda wasn’t used to hearing. She stepped back carefully, her mind racing.
The sound of the nurse's footsteps faded as the woman left, leaving the house feeling strangely quiet. Khinda turned toward the stairs, her legs heavy as she moved. She slowed as she passed her aunt’s room, the door slightly ajar. She could hear the soft rustling of the sheets, the slight groan of the bed frame as Cyema shifted.
For a moment, Khinda thought about going in, saying something - anything - but her feet wouldn’t move past the threshold. Instead, she kept walking, her hand trailing lightly along the railing.
Hours passed. The afternoon light dimmed, casting long shadows across the house. Khinda’s mom came up. Aunt Cyema was inviting her to play their usual afternoon game of Tactica. It was a welcome distraction, one Khinda had always cherished, but when they finally sat down next to the hospital bed tonight and brought out the game board, the mood was different.
At first, Cyema tried to keep up the usual banter, but halfway through the match, Khinda noticed her aunt's hand trembling as she moved a piece. Cyema's face twisted slightly, her eyes narrowing in discomfort.
Khinda set down her own piece, watching closely. It wasn’t long before Cyema drew a shaky breath and placed her hand flat on the board, her voice thin as she spoke. “Khinda, I’m so sorry. I think we’ll have to finish this later. I... I just can’t concentrate, little wing.”
Khinda looked at her aunt, a soft smile tugging at her lips despite the ache in her chest. “It’s okay, Aunt Cyema. We’ll pick it up later,” she said, trying to sound casual, but the worry was there, just beneath her words.
As she climbed the stairs back up to her room, she heard muffled gasps coming from the den. Khinda shut her door, leaned against it, and closed her eyes. In her mind, she could still feel the pressure of the JCEDF uniform hanging primly in her closet, stiff and constricting. For the first time, the thought of putting it back on tomorrow felt unbearable.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
It had been a little over a week since the whole mood in the house began to shift. Khinda came home late again, her bag hanging loosely from one shoulder, her feet dragging with every step. She hadn’t worn her uniform for days --it lay crumpled up and forgotten at the bottom of her closet. Each morning she stared at it for a moment then turned away, pulling on regular clothes. Whether she did so more out of defiance or disgust, she wasn’t sure. But the result was the same.
The house was quiet when she came home from school that day, dim except for the faint light coming from the back patio. It couldn’t be Uncle Khavid since he’d moved back home days ago, though honestly he was only a few houses down if they needed him for anything.
Out on the patio instead she saw Aunt Cyema, sitting in one of the worn rocking chairs. Her posture was slouched, her cane leaned against the wall of the house, and her eyes were fixed on the night sky. A half-full bottle of whiskey sat on the table beside her, and in her hand was a glass, mostly empty.
Khinda could tell she wasn’t exactly drunk, not yet at least, but the glassy look in her aunt’s eyes spoke of something deeper. Khinda’s fists balled up. She couldn’t believe Aunt Cyema would do this. Not after all this time. Not after all those nights she overheard whispered arguments about drinking and about controlling herself. No wonder her mom was nowhere to be found.
“You know,” Cyema said suddenly, her voice soft and distant, “it ain’t always like this.”
Khinda stopped in the patio doorway, her hand gripping the frame tightly. She wanted to say something sharp, something biting, but instead, she just rolled her eyes. “Really?” she muttered, the bitterness clear in her tone.
Cyema raised her glass and pointed toward the sky. “There. In the constellation of the growser. That’s where they are right now.” She sounded as far away as that distant star. “I’m … I’m supposed to protect them. You know that? Set up on some perch. Nice and hidden. Laser and I just … watching over ‘em.” She shook her head. “He’s an OK shot. But a shit countersniper.”
“And yet here I am,” she continued, the slightest slur in her words. “So far away they’re nothin’ more than a pinprick in the sky. Useless. ”
“Useless?!” Khinda blurted out. “You’re HOME!” But she huffed instead of saying anything more and turned on her heel to storm back inside before she said something she regretted later. She wanted to yell, to scream, to slam doors-
“Hey! Come on, ‘Inda—” Cyema’s voice followed her, sounding raw, not from drink but from exhaustion. Khinda didn’t want to listen, but something in the way Cyema said her name made her pause just inside the door.
Khinda turned slowly, arms crossed, her gaze dropping to the whiskey bottle on the table. “Uncle Khavid brought that for you, didn’t he?” Her voice was cold and sharp as her twelve year old self could manage.
Cyema blinked slowly, like she was coming back to the present, and nodded. “Yes, but-” Her voice cracked slightly, the weight of what she couldn’t explain hanging in the air between them.
Khinda’s expression darkened, her gaze never leaving the bottle. “It’s for the pain, right?” she snapped, but it was more than just the pain she was talking about, and Cyema knew it.
“I-” Cyema began, but the words didn’t come. She shrunk under the judgment in Khinda’s stare, the disappointment seeming to cut deeper than any physical pain. Her grip on the glass tightened, the cold condensation pressing into her skin. “There’s a squad out there,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “Fourteen other people who count on me. Rely on me. Being here? While they’re out there still?” She sighed, and turned her face back toward the sky. “It’s just... too much sometimes,” she said quietly, almost to herself.
But Khinda didn’t care to hear it. “So WE’RE too much for you too then?!” The sharpness of her own anger overwhelmed her, and before Aunt Cyema could explain further, Khinda turned on her heel and stormed upstairs. She counted on Cyema too, you know. Her and her mother. Her footsteps echoed in the silence, each one like a hammer blow in the quiet house leaving Cyema alone on the patio, staring up at the stars, her glass still clutched in her hand.
The slam of Khinda’s bedroom door reverberated through the walls. As the noise faded, the house fell into a thick silence. Khinda stood still for a moment, her breathing heavy, but then she heard something that stopped her cold. From down the hall, through the thin walls, came the sound of soft, muffled crying. Her mother’s quiet sobs drifted in from the next bedroom over.
Khinda swallowed hard, her anger fading into something else, something she didn’t know how to face. She shut her eyes tight, but it all stayed with her, heavy and absolutely inescapable.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
A week later Khinda lay on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She’d gotten the results of her last math test today and was fuming over it. She’d never failed a math test. It’s not like numbers had changed in the last month! Or however long it’d been, honestly she’d lost track of time. But that wasn’t an excuse! Even if it did seem like everything was off somehow and even the simplest things were slipping out of her grasp.
The sound of slow, measured footsteps interrupted the silence. Khinda turned her head toward the door just as it creaked open. She wasn’t in the mood to be lectured about her grade.
But instead of her mom, Aunt Cyema stood there, leaning on her cane. Her face was ashen with effort but determined. Her steps were careful, each one sending a small obvious wince of pain through her body, but she was walking up and down the stairs now. It was progress at least.
“Can I come in?” Cyema asked softly, her voice tentative.
Khinda didn’t answer, but she didn’t push her aunt away either. She stayed where she was, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling, her eyes narrowing in frustration. She didn’t want to have this conversation -- whatever it was going to be. Still, she wasn’t ready to shut the door in her aunt’s face either. “Whatever,” she answered.
Cyema took that as permission. Slowly, she made her way into the room, her eyes catching on something out of place. Her gaze lingered on the open closet, where Khinda’s JCEDF uniform lay crumpled and discarded on the floor. Cyema stared at it for a long moment, then sighed.
Without a word, she bent down, struggling against the sharp pull of pain in her side. It took her longer than it should have, but she finally managed to pick up the jacket, holding it carefully in her hands as if it were something precious. With deliberate care, she reached for a hanger and hung it up, her fingers brushing out some of the wrinkles.
Khinda furrowed her brows, watching from the bed. “Why are you doing that?” she asked, her voice sharp. “It doesn’t deserve to be hung up and nice.”
Cyema straightened the jacket on the hanger. “Of course it deserves to be hung up. You earned it, Khinda. It’s not a weight you have to carry—it’s something to be proud of. You’ve worked hard for it.”
Khinda let out a sharp breath, crossing her arms tighter as she sat on the bed. “Well, maybe I don’t want it.”
“That’s alright too,” Cyema answered, voice full of patience. “Sweetie, you don’t have to wear it. You’re trying it on right now, that’s it. You’ve got no other obligations.” Cyema ran her hands over the jacket and smoothed out the rest of it as much as she could. Once satisfied, she gestured toward Khinda’s desk chair. “May I?”
Khinda just shrugged.
Cyema hobbled over and lowered herself gently down onto the chair. “I know this has been scary-”
Khinda huffed. “Scary? You think I’m mad just because it was scary?”
Cyema blinked.
Khinda wanted to explode with emotion. “I’m mad because of EVERYTHING! I’m mad because of how scared mom was! How the CEDF didn’t tell us about ANYTHING! About how none of the adults tell me ANYTHING either!” She sat up and balled her fists, letting the rage build in her body. “And now that you’re getting better, you COULD help, but you spend so much of your time DRINKING and you don’t even play tactica with me anymore! And you know what?” She threw her arms in the air in dismissal. “Just forget it. It’s whatever. I’m never doing this to mom. Never. I’m never making her this afraid for me ever. So you can go do whatever. It’s fine. ”
Obviously it wasn’t fine, but Khinda couldn’t help it. She was so mad, so betrayed. But what could she change? Nothing. She couldn’t change anything.
Aunt Cyema’s eyes were wide as dinner plates as she watched Khinda rage, but she also stayed quiet and let her get it all out. Cyema blinked a bunch after Khinda stopped, then took a few breaths.
“I… I’m so sorry, ‘Inda. I … didn’t realize. You should be kept informed. It’s not fair that you haven’t been, you’re right. I promise you won’t be out of the loop anymore.”
Khinda just scowled. That was only part of why she was so mad. And Uncle Khavid had already promised her that and no one seemed to abide by it anyway. Hadn’t Cyema been listening?
Cyema had paused. “But. ‘Inda. I mean. Maybe … maybe this whole thing isn’t such a bad experience. It may actually turn out to be kind of good.”
“GOOD?!” Khinda yelled. “HOW IS ANY OF THIS GOOD ?!”
“Hear me out!” Cyema put her hands up in defense and tried to get Khinda’s attention back. “Hear me out. Look. My own mamaw was CEDF and all I ever saw and heard were stories of her triumphs. She never spoke about the bad stuff. But this whole thing means you get to actually see some of the other side of things. You know what a wound can do to a person now. You know what your family back home can go through. You see what we sign up for. It ain’t all glory and honor.”
Cyema paused, seeming to consider her words. “But it’s worth it. At the very least, I think it’s worth it. And whether I think it’s worth it or not is my choice. Just like it’s yours and anyone else’s choice to put on that uniform, or to give it back.”
Khinda narrowed her eyes to slits. “And does that choice include abandoning me and mom when you said you’d be here to protect us and teach me everything you know?”
Cyema sighed, then nodded. “Sometimes, yes. But that’s because … do you know what happens if I don’t go? Well…”
She lurched awkwardly out of Khinda’s desk chair and edged over to the bed, sitting on the opposite end. Her gaze softened, but Khinda could see there was a lot of pain behind them right now. “Sweetie, there are people out there that hate us. I don’t mean people who just say mean things or throw punches. I mean people who want chiss dead. Any chiss. They abduct our merchants into slavery, they capture and destroy civilian transports… I’ve seen these things. And Schesa?”
Cyema gestured around her toward nothing and everything. “We’re the frontier out here. We’re the border. That’s why we have the Triad, ‘Inda, there’s nothing between us and the Chaos. We’re a bulwark against all of that. And I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to this place. Or to anyone who lives here.”
Aunt Cyema’s eyes glowed at that just a little more intensely. “So yeah. I leave sometimes on deployments. Sometimes those deployments are long, sometimes they’re dangerous. And there’s always gonna be a risk. But ‘Inda…” She reached out to take Khinda’s hand, though Khinda swiped it away. “It is always only to protect you. And your mother. And our family. And our people.”
She frowned a bit at Khinda’s gesture of snapping her hand back to her chest. Cyema pursed her lips and nodded, seemingly accepting defeat as Khinda glared at her through the little speech.
Honestly, Khinda wasn’t sure what to think. Or say. Or even do. Her chest was tight and her insides were all mixed up with emotion. Her aunt was making too much sense right now, but she was still so angry. Angry that her aunt was going to leave again, angry that the JCEDF hadn’t told her all of this. Were they expecting her to sign up and just … go into the CEDF without knowing all the bad stuff? Really? That was a cruel and horrible trick if it was true, but she just couldn’t wrestle right now with what that meant.
Cyema sighed and stood, straining to do so with her cane. “Look,” she said softly. “Just ‘cause I didn’t know all the details doesn't mean I’m sorry I’m a warrior.” She shrugged. “It’s a choice. A very personal one. And that choice ain’t for everyone, which is ok. The Ascendancy needs soldiers, yeah. But we also need everyone else. Teachers, healers, architects, artists, merchants … it’s just one career type. And I promise, there’s honor in all of ‘em.”
“What about mom?” Khinda shot back, though the fight in her voice was slowing down. “Mom didn’t choose for you to go away so much.”
Cyema pursed her lips. “Actually, she did. She knew when she married your father that he was going to be deployed a lot. She knew he might not come back. And when he didn’t …” She paused, trying to pick out her words. “It was a shock, but she always knew it could happen. And … well. When she chose me years later? ‘Inda, your mom knows exactly what it means to be a soldier’s partner. She’s stronger than you give her credit for. We’ve had a lot of long discussions about exactly this. I was enlisted long before we all became a family. She knew. And yet she still chose to bring us together when I asked if that’s what she wanted.”
Cyema gave Khinda a soft smile. “Bottom line is that I love you both. And your mom has more love than fear. She’s got a strong heart. You should trust her more in these things.”
Khinda pouted and looked away. There was a lump in her throat and her chest was all tight. She couldn’t even look at her aunt right now.
Cyema started heading out of the room to let Khinda think about all of it, but stopped again at the uniform jacket, once more hanging smartly on its hanger. “Just do me a favor, huh? You don’t have to wear it. You can even turn it back in if you like. I won’t be disappointed one bit, I promise. But keep it nice for the next person who wants to try it on? Please?”
Khinda watched her get to the door of her room. She felt a small bit of shame, but it was tempered by every other emotion currently swirling around in her body. She had so much to think about and so much to decide. Where to even start?
As Cyema opened the door, Khinda knew. Screw the uniform for now, she was going to start with her family. “Where’s the rest of it?”
Cyema looked back at Khinda, brows furrowed a little in confusion. “Rest of what?”
Khinda stood and crossed her room and stood solidly in front of her aunt. “The rest of what Uncle Khavid brought you. Where is it?”
Cyema blinked in surprise, then seemed to deflate. “I … I know I promised I’d stop, ‘Inda. But you gotta trust me. I hope you never feel pain like this, but-”
Khinda just planted her feet and stood her ground. “Where. Is. it?”
Cyema rubbed her eyes. Then her whole face. She sniffled a bit like she wanted to cry. Good. At least Khinda wasn’t alone in that right now. But Khinda stood firm. If Aunt Cyema was the tough and honorable soldier she said she was, then she’d do this for her niece without hesitation, right?
Cyema finally sighed, and ran her hands through her cropped hair. When she answered, her voice was soft and sad. “Under the downstairs bed,” she admitted.
Khinda nodded. “Come on.” She took her aunt’s hand and together they made their way slowly down the stairs. It didn’t take Khinda long to find the bottle full of amber liquid. It had been tucked carefully next to a bag of wound dressings. She hauled it out and led her Aunt outside, then gave her the bottle once they made it to the edge of her mom’s garden.
Khinda watched as Cyema took it in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut for a really long time.
“Mom doesn’t like it,” she said simply. “Mom says it’s bad and I think it’s bad too. You promised her. If you keep your promise to mom, I’ll keep mine and think about the JCEDF more. Deal?”
Finally Cyema nodded, opened her eyes again, and gave Khinda a sad smile. “Deal.” Slowly she unscrewed the cap on the bottle, held it out away from her, and poured it out onto the golden grass.
Khinda just nodded stoically as her aunt poured out the bottle. “And Uncle Khavid won’t bring more?” Her chest had tightened up and a lump was forming in her throat again. But she had to make sure.
Cyema’s mouth was drawn tightly into a thin line. She shook out the last few drops and then mechanically screwed the lid back on. “Don’t worry,” she said quietly. “… I’ll tell him not to.”
Khinda nodded. Good. She didn’t exactly know what to say, and that lump was threatening to not let her say anything anyway. So instead, she threw her arms around her aunt, making sure to avoid the wounds that were still causing the woman so much pain. Cyema brought her in close, squeezing Khinda and planting a kiss on the top of her head.
“I dunno what I’d do without you, little wing.”
Khinda squeezed her back - gently - at the nickname. “We love you,” she answered, face still buried deep in her aunt's clothing.
“I love you too,” Aunt Cyema answered. “Ain’t no one in the whole galaxy I love more than you and your mom.”
“Except Uncle Khavid,” Khinda corrected, looking up briefly and wiping her eyes.
“Ehhhh,” Cyema gave a small chuckle, obviously trying to break a bit of the mood. “You don’t have a brother. I love him too, but brothers can be so annoying sometimes.” She gave Khinda a little wink that meant she was joking, and wiped some of Khinda’s tears with her thumb. “Come on then. I think I owe you at least a few tactica games.”
Khinda nodded and took Cyema’s hand as they made their way back into the house together.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
Khinda still hadn’t put on her uniform yet, but she had also respected her Aunt’s wishes and kept it hung up the rest of the week. Nor was it very late when she got home today. Yes, she had skipped muster, but she’d at least made the effort to catch the usual school transport and arrive home at a normal time.
As Khinda approached the house, she noticed something unusual: laughter. It floated through the air, a sound she hadn’t heard in ages. Pausing just before the back gate, she frowned in confusion. The house had been so quiet for so long and so heavy with the weight of Cyema’s recovery. Laughter seemed way out of place.
She stepped through the gate and was greeted by an unexpected scene. In the backyard, Cyema sat propped up in a sturdy patio chair, her posture more relaxed than it had been since she got home. Her cane leaned on the chair beside her and a basket of freshly picked fruit lay tipped over onto the table that she was sitting at. With practiced hands and actual focus, Cyema chopped the fruits one by one, her fingers carefully stringing them together to dry in the warm sun.
A few feet away, Khinda’s mom knelt beside a bush, gathering more fruit into a similar basket, the other of which she’d clearly filled earlier and handed to Cyema. Every so often, she would call out some playful comment, tossing a small fruit over her shoulder, and Cyema would catch it with a grin and a light laugh. The two of them were actually talking and laughing, lighthearted in a way that felt both familiar and comfortable. The sound of such joy and ease was almost foreign to Khinda, but it warmed her from the inside out.
She stood still for a moment, watching in disbelief. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her aunt laugh like that. Or the last time the house hadn’t felt heavy with worry. It was confusing at first, jarring even, but as she stood there quietly observing it was like a weight began to lift from her chest. Granted, it wasn’t perfect. Cyema still moved a lot slower and her strength was still far from returning, but this was the closest to “home” Khinda had felt in a long time.
Khulum glanced up from the bushes and spotted her. “Look who’s home!” she called, wiping her hands on her harvesting apron. “You’re just in time to help!”
Khinda blinked, still processing the scene, but then a small smile tugged at her lips. She dropped her bag to the ground, eyes shifting between her mom and Cyema. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was lightness here. The tension she’d carried for weeks, the anger at how bad everything had gotten … it all seemed to loosen in her chest. It wasn’t all better, but seeing them like this -- laughing, doing something as simple as stringing fruit -- made her realize that maybe it would be.
“Hey,” she said quietly, approaching the table.
Cyema looked up from her work, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re just in time. We could use some extra hands over here.”
Khinda’s smile widened just a little. “Yeah, okay.” She walked closer and sat down next to her aunt, the tension in her body melting as she began to help string the fruit.
Everything wasn’t perfect. Cyema was still recovering, still weak, but this... this felt like a glimpse of the way things used to be. And for now, that was enough.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
“Oh, wow. You kept this old thing?”
Xodlak’in’daro had stopped in front of the honor wall in her childhood home and reached out to brush a finger against one of the framed little medals. It had been years since she’d last been home, but between the holiday season and a close cousin’s wedding, she just hadn’t been able to put off a visit any longer.
Her mom chuckled behind her. “Course we kept it. Turned the uniform itself back in of course, but I think I could frame your valedictory medal, couldn’t I?”
Lakinda’s gaze passed over it, displayed proudly next to her Taharim acceptance letter. Both of them hung above the rest of the displayed family military honors. Even her aunt’s honor chains took second position below these old relics.
She shrugged and turned back around to face the two most important women in her life. “Just saying that there’s a bunch of pieces here more impressive than some old JCEDF participation award.”
Aunt Cyema -- Khema actually since she’d retired and re-joined their family -- shook her head. “I disagree. You faced a huge challenge back then. Almost up and quit the uniform altogether. Not that I would have blamed you or been upset or anything. But now look at ya!” Aunt Khema beamed and put a sturdy hand on Lakinda’s shoulder, the old wound having fully healed ages ago. “Never even dreamed of making Junior Captain myself. I think we’re allowed to be proud of our girl, eh Khulum?”
Her mom grinned and agreed. “Whether she likes it or not!”
Lakinda rolled her eyes with a small smirk. “Well, I guess you’ve gotta have something to brag about.”
Aunt Khema chuckled, giving her a playful nudge. “Damn straight. And someone’s got to remind you where you came from.”
Lakinda shook her head, glancing back at the medal. A lot of memories were attached to that whole episode, and not all of them pleasant. She pursed her lips. “You remember that night I found you out on the patio?”
“How could I forget?” Khema answered. “You really put me back in my place. Though I can’t say it was very fair to you. You were too young to deal with that kind of responsibility-”
“Nah.” Lakinda shook her head. “Besides. You said something that night that I didn’t exactly understand ‘till a whole lot later. About that old squad of yours.”
Khema cocked her head. “I know I felt guilty as sin for having left ‘em. Not that I coulda helped it.”
“You told me there were fourteen other people who relied on you. You watched over them, protected them.” Lakinda turned away from the medal and faced the older veteran. “Well, I’ve got nine thousand now on my ship under my command … and I’m lightyears away at a wedding .”
“Odd, isn’t it?”
“Can’t say I’m a fan,” she replied. “But I get it now at least. And I don’t exactly blame you about it anymore.”
Aunt Khema smiled. “I told you back then that it might not turn out to be a bad thing, having seen the worst of what a career with the CEDF can offer.”
Her mom frowned. “It’s not the worst …”
“Course not,” Lakinda answered a bit somberly. “But it’s damn close. And as much as I hate what you went through. Well. I guess I’m grateful to have known what I was signing up for.”
Her mom cleared her throat. “Well, don’t go getting any ideas now. The Xodlak are a fair bit bigger than the Aimcy and I doubt they’d let you stay here. Now-”
“Probably right on that one,” Lakinda agreed.
“ Now ,” Khulum interrupted, putting on a smile and banishing the old episode from their conversation. “Your Uncle Khavid invited us over for tonight’s roast, and if we don’t get going he’s going to have everything eaten up before we get there.”
Lakinda raised an eyebrow, already picturing her uncle piling his plate high. “Good ole’ Uncle Khavid. Sounds about right. If we’re lucky, there’ll still be some left for us.”
Khema laughed, shaking her head. “Well, let’s not test that theory. Come on, let’s get going before we miss the whole party.”