to worry," he says, his eyes bright. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you—"
"It's fine," I say, shaking my head. "We understand."
"You never told me you have brothers," one of the people I don't recognize says, and Cherian turns with a glare.
"It's personal information, Rowan," he says, and my eyebrows inch up at the sheer amount of bitterness there.
"Focus, people," Fehr says, and Cherian straightens. "When we get there, Temsha, you and Mikscn will lead. I'll take point after that with Jedn, and Tristen and Magnus will bring up the rear. I want the rest of you spread out and keep eyes on the prisoner." Rowan snorts.
"The compound will scan you and deactivate the security measures," Fehr continues, ignoring Rowan. "After that, we'll make our way to the database core. The Vrah'di military should be in the atmosphere right now."
"And if the Brudeah make it down before the Vrah'di?" Mikscn asks.
Fehr looks meaningfully down at the weapon in his hands. "We'll take care of it."
The elevator slows, then stops, and the doors open. It's a shock walking into pristine white halls from the decay above. Mikscn and I walk into the hallway cautiously. Sudden fear seizes me. What if they were wrong, and we're not the people they need and our entire race is doomed?
But there's a low whirring sound that seems to come from the walls, and then a rapid series of beeps and clicks. The rest of the group edges after us, and Mikscn and I approach the plain door at the end of the hall slowly.
"Good morning, Doctor En'sara." We all jump at the pleasant female voice. "You are cleared for an unspecified number of visitors. Please proceed into the sanctum."
"You two stay as guards," Fehr says to two of the men from the Novasky , and they nod curtly.
The door slides open when we get close and we walk into the next room with bated breath. It's a huge room, long and wide with a vaulted ceiling. It's shiny and white, all angles and sterility. There are tables everywhere, boards with writing scribbled on them, memos taped on every surface possible. It looks like the people who worked here have only left for a minute. The air isn't even stale.
"Bizarre, isn't it?" Instantly, the crew behind us has guns up and aimed at the man standing in front of us. He just smiles pleasantly.
"It's a hologram," I say.
He laughs. "Not just a hologram."
"An AI," Mikscn says, and he—it—he laughs again.
"Close. Although I'm not surprised that descendants of mine are very bright." He beckons us closer and we all shuffle forward. "I am the consciousness of Doctor Vance En'sara."
"You're real," I murmur, and he nods.
"We thought it would be easier for you—whomever you ended up being—if there was someone here to walk you through things." He sighs. "We didn't think it would take so long to get to this point. We didn't think the Brudeah would destroy us so completely."
"How long has it been?" Jye asks.
The man—Vance—looks down at his clasped hands for a second before lifting his chin. "Just over one thousand years."
I feel like I've been punched in the gut. Someone behind us curses. I knew it'd been a long time, knew it had to've been a long time, but a millennium?
"Our people are called the D'shnk'dta," Vance says. "We've shared our planet, Illisneya, with the Brudeah for as long as we can remember. But where they focused their efforts on warring with one another, we focused our efforts on utilizing the telepathic abilities most of our race are born with." He pauses. "My scans indicate that you two have an advanced degree of ability."
"Only with each other," Mikscn says.
Vance frowns. "Not with your third?"
We glance at Jye. "That's … not something any of us knows how to do," Jye says.
Vance looks disappointed. "Very well."
"What happened to us?" one of Bryn's gunners asks.
"The Brudeah," Vance says simply. "They unified under one banner and came for us. We had no way to repel them. We realized they were going to overwhelm us and retreated here.
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