[Hope]
"There you are. Lissa is upset with you going off on your own."
Startled by Stephen's voice, Hope jerked her head up from the tangled mess of wires and electronic parts on the small table before her, surprised that he had found her tucked away in the electrical maintenance closet. "I didn't go off alone. Amil is with me."
With a big grin, Amil peeked out from behind a dusty shelf partially filled with tools and electrical parts. He handed Hope a small plastic block with wire attachments. She said, "Oh, good. You found one."
Stephen shook his head. "I'll let you explain it to Lissa. But she might tie you to your bed, anyway." He wrinkled his forehead. "What are you two doing?"
"Fixing the power problem. Turns out a voltage regulator was going bad. Couldn't find a spare, so we are making one." Hope ruffled Amil's thick hair.
"You know how to do that?"
"Yeah. I repaired starship power systems with my dad. The system here is not much different."
He dropped his jaw. "Hope, is there anything you can't do?"
Looking up at him from a chair, Hope half-grinned and lifted her prosthetic leg. "Dodging plasma bolts. I kinda sucked at that."
Stephen smiled, but then the smile faded. "We might have some information on your brother."
After returning Amil to his room, Stephen led Hope toward a row of offices. Along the way, they passed Lissa, who pointed a finger at Hope, shooting a laser stare from narrowed eyes. Stephen laughed as Hope grabbed his arm and tried to hide behind him. "Yeah, you're in big trouble. It is not wise to piss off your physical therapist."
The scuffed wooden office door sat partially open and the placard above it said Angelique Boone, Director. Hope raised her eyebrows, to which Stephen replied with a shrug, "My mother."
An attractive middle-aged woman with shoulder-length blonde hair rose from behind a scratched plas-steel desk to greet Hope, smiling sweetly. Hope noted the family similarities, both with the same gentle facial curves and warm eyes. Stephen made the introduction as the women shook hands. "Mother, this is Hope, the one I told you about."
"Pleased to meet you, Hope. Please sit down." Angelique gestured toward two cushioned plas-steel chairs. "I understand you seek your brother?"
Hope scooted to the edge of her seat. "Yes. His name is Gabriel. Have you found him?"
"Perhaps." Angelique's smile faded. "We found no one named Gabriel, but there was one named Angel, an outsider who fought in the Ring."
Hope's eyes widened. "The Ring?"
Stephen replied as his mother scrolled through a tablet viewer on her desk. "Trespassers are sometimes sent to the Ring. It is a gladiator styled fighting arena." He frowned. "An abomination introduced by the Khan for sick entertainment."
Angelique lifted the viewer, which showed two men facing each other in an arena, one with a sword and the other with a staff. Hope gasped. "That's Gab! The one with a staff. Is he alright?"
"He won this fight, so I believe so."
On the video, Gabriel drew his staff through the sand, making a shallow furrow. Stephen wrinkled his forehead. "What is he doing there?"
A smile of recognition grew on Angelique's face. "He draws the symbol of the Sol Empress. Do you and your brother follow the Sol Way?"
"Umm, you could say that." Hope replied. Waves of warmth rolled up her spine as Gabriel completed the drawing, then stood ready for combat. He prepares the way of the Sol Empress. My brother believes in me. Hope turned her eyes up to Angelique. "Can you get him out?" Please...
Angelique lowered her head. "I cannot. I have no standing with the Khan. In fact, if I had been with Priestess Sanva when they took her, they would have taken me too." She clarified, "Besides being the New Hope Director, I am also Sanva's personal assistant."
"Then, can you take me to the Priestess' office?"
"What do wish to accomplish there?"
"I want access to the long-range com so I can call my father for help. He doesn't know where we are."
"That would be difficult." Angelique shook her head. "The Khan locked up the office, part of their effort to prevent outside communication. Besides, only the Priestess can operate the com, and she is missing."
Oh, I think I can. Hope clutched her hands together tightly in her lap. "I may be able to work it. Will you take me there?"
"The building is guarded, Hope. We wouldn't even make it inside." Angelique's facial features softened. "I'm sorry. We will find another way."
Stephen said, "Hope, who is after you and your brother?"
She turned her head down. "The Trade Consortium, and by extension the Commonwealth. We, umm, have information that can hurt them."
Angelique huffed. "I would welcome the Consortium's demise. It was their policies that gave rise to the Khan. Ephenia once was a pleasant world." She shook her head, putting on a wistful expression. "But it seems just a lost dream now."
A resolve came to Hope. A dream I shall restore.
*****
The door to Stephen's apartment, on the lower level of the shelter, was unlocked. Receiving no reply to her knocks, Hope crept in. "Stephen? Are you awake?" Slow heavy breaths of slumber showed he was not.
While small and not at all extravagant, the one-room apartment was functional, warm, and comfortable. Like him. A dark wooden panel partitioned off the bed area.
Hope bit her lower lip, gazing at Stephen as he slept, his chest rising and falling in gentle rhythm. He laid on his back, the blanket covering only part of his torso. A tingling warmth rose from her core as her eyes scanned his bare toned chest and shoulders, made even more alluring in the dim light. So beautiful. She fought back an urge to reach out and touch him, to run her fingertips across his firm skin.
Hope chastised herself. Focus! I cannot have this.
"Stephen? Wake up." Hope shook him once, and then again with more vigor.
His eyes fluttered open. "Hope? What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?"
"I need my stuff." She whispered, as if someone else might be listening. "And I need you to take me to the Sol Priestess' office."
The covers fell away as he sat up. "What? No! It's too dangerous."
Her even tone did not match the restless urgency she felt. "My brother is in danger and eventually I will be too. I need to call for help. So, I am going, with you or without you."
"Fine," he grumbled. "I'll go with you. But when we come back, you are on your own with Lissa."
Once dressed, Stephen unlocked a small drawer in a storage closet near the clinic's patient rooms. "This is all we have of your things. Your clothes were torn up, especially the leggings, so we threw them away. We had to lock it up because of the gun."
"This is what I need." Hope pulled out her sky-blue scarf and tied it around her waist, cinching in the gray t-shirt that Lissa had given her from the shelter's stock of donated clothing. A loose pair of black shorts and a single pull-on shoe completed the less-than-fashionable outfit. "I'm glad you saved the scarf. It means something to me." She picked up a plasma cutter borrowed from the maintenance room and tucked it under the scarf. Next came the pulse pistol from the drawer. After inspecting it, she slid it in next to the cutter.
Stephen's eyes widened. "Do you need that?"
"I might." She closed the drawer. "Let's go."
The night air still held some of the day's warmth, which radiated from the walls of the open-air garage. They passed three hover-cars, coming to an old four-wheeled truck with a flat bed. Numerous scrapes and dents suggested it had a hard life.
"This one," he said. "Actually, you have already ridden in it, but you were unconscious at the time."
The gull-wing door squealed as Hope opened it. Turning, she slid her butt onto the passenger seat and grimaced as she hiked her prosthetic leg in with both hands.
"Are you okay?" Stephen asked.
No, it hurts. "I'm fine." She nodded with a forced smile.
After inserting a cylindrical key, Stephen announced their destination to the autopilot and the electric motor whirred to life. "It's not far," he said.
Two small moons near the horizon provided faint light. The truck rumbled along on the bumpy streets. Hope sat in silence with arms wrapped around herself, watching brown adobe-style houses and businesses pass by in the darkness. Periodically, streetlight beams would illuminate the truck cab. But they did not chase away the dark thoughts that invaded her mind, fears for the unknown fates of those she loved. Hope's gut twisted more and more as the journey continued.
After a few moments, Stephen broke the silence. "When you told the story of the first Empress to the children, you implied the Line of the Empress still exists. Now half the kids are looking for this Empress to show up. Do you believe that?"
"I do," Hope replied. With off-world communications blocked, he would not have heard the news. "And why not here? Ephenia is more than worthy of the Empress' attention. What do you believe?"
He smiled, looking ahead. "My mother told me a story from when I was three Earth-years old and we lived at a space station called Oracle. It was a bad time for her, but she met a Sol Priestess who turned her life around and we came back here. But here's the thing." Stephen gestured with his hands, turning toward Hope. "That Priestess was Celeste Ciel, you know, the one accused of terrorism? And she was pregnant with triplets at the time, two daughters and a son. But the really incredible part of this was that she was just a surrogate mother, genetically they were the children of Empress Iona. So perhaps, the Line of the Empress still exists out there, somewhere." He sighed. "The Creator knows we need a true Empress now."
Hope's eyes widened, and a lump grew in her throat as Stephen related the tale. Her father had told the same story from his point of view. Do I tell Stephen? But then, what would he think of me?
Stephen interrupted Hope's indecision as he took over the vehicle controls, guiding it to a stop on a quiet dark street. "The Priestess' office is just ahead."
As he reached for the door handle, Hope put a hand on his shoulder. "Just me. Please wait here." I don't want to put you at any more risk.
"I can't let you go in alone!"
"It's okay." She leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, feeling her own lips tingle. "It's better if only one person goes in, less likely to be detected. I just have to get in, send a message, and then get out. No worries."
Stephen nodded, tightening his lips. "Be careful, Hope."
Hope opened the truck door slowly, but again, it let out a squeal. After contorting her face at the sound, she left the door open and hobbled into the shadows, looking back one more time at Stephen's concerned face.
Recalling her words, Hope cringed internally. Did I just say no worries? By the stars, I am becoming my dad.