AMETHYST

The novel Amethyst was published by me back in June of 2023 and is available on Amazon. This first chapter is designed to give readers a chance to try out my story for free, allowing you to dip your toes into the world that I have created without having to spend money first.

Please send me feedback with your thoughts and opinions on the story, characters, writing style, and more. Everything helps me grow as an author.

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Chapter 1: Protector's Embrace

 Few women are called upon to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Fewer are prepared for the ordeal. Through hardship, dedication, and sacrifice, Amethyst's trial was underway.

She reposed in a small room overlooking the ocean—plain white walls, minimal furniture and no pictures hanging anywhere. As she scanned the waves, a light breeze ruffled her dark hair, gently blowing it in unison with the scarlet curtains beside her. The last few weeks had seen her hair sprout quite a lot, and it now rested just past her shoulders, helping to define her soft, round face. Clearly, she was still fairly young, 21 in fact, and wore a simple outfit: a short-sleeved red blouse that revealed multiple cuts on her forearms, and tight black jeans. The early morning sunlight sprang off her pale skin, warming her frail body as her purple eyes stared over the endless blue horizon, unmoved. Someone knocked at the door, but she stayed still, silent. A young man in a light leathery overcoat trudged in. He was fit, however not especially muscular, and his body was akin to a human's, but his clawed fingers and small fanged teeth said otherwise. Vander Morrow was a Duskan, one of the galaxy's more dangerous but less understood races. He stood 6 feet tall and had dark, black hair no more than a few inches long. Battle scars embellished his arms and face, but the more gruesome ones lay concealed under his apparel. He advanced to the girl's side after a brief pause, a solemn and heavy air to him.

"I know it's been tough," he began, still eliciting no response whatsoever from the girl. "... I'm very proud of you for being so brave." His voice was coarse, yet soft. He waited for a reply, a look or a sigh. Anything.

 She continued to stare across the water, unmoving. "Still trust me?" he asked, leaning forward in an attempt to make eye contact.

 He let his weakness show, something he would never do with anyone else. His eyes filled with uncertainty. "Amethyst?" he whispered.

 "I trust you, Vander," she finally answered solemnly.

 Her voice was soft, feminine and shy. She turned to him and gave the faintest smile before stepping away from the window, making her hair fall back into place on her shoulders. She stepped towards him, feeling his hands gently grip her fragile arms while cracking a comforting smile; she felt safe in the presence of her Protector. "I'll always trust you," she added tenderly.

 Amethyst wasn't sure how things were going to end up; it had been nearly a month since she and her companions made a clumsy escape from the enemy planet, Baracus, which resulted in the loss of two other members of their team. Since then, she had struggled to keep her emotions at a calmer level, and making matters worse, somehow, SRA forces consistently managed to catch up with them.

 The Solar Rebel Army, a military once respected for their cause, had become ruthless and fanatic in their actions against neutral systems. Ever since the Baracus incident, however, the SRA seemed to be hunting them down, catching them at every turn. Fortunately though, the SRA was not yet aware of her importance, and with assistance from the United Planetary Defense Alliance (UPDA), they were able to better evade the patrols pursuing them,

 Thirteen days ago, their small group landed on the resort world, Fontaine, yet even though they were far beyond the SRA patrol line, she feared that they would soon find her; this left her nervous, and the short relief from that looming fear dissipated as soon as she stepped back from Vander.

 At the very same time, the door behind her opened yet once again, this time revealing Cirell1 Bathen-Mora, the leader of their team. He looked several years older than Vander and stood at about six and a half feet tall. He had eyes that flickered between blues and greens, and his pointed ears also stood out, further betraying his Malruutian ethnicity. Cirell was as geared up as he could be in a civilian setting. He wore military style pants and a thick jacket, concealing a light combat vest. A barely noticeable tactical tablet was lit up on his left wrist, and his adjacent hand rested on his holstered pistol, as usual, while he stood in the doorway.

 "We're clear guys. Nobody's on to us yet," he assured quietly as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "We should get going. The sun is up," he added while listening intently to the hallway.

 It was time. Amethyst had no choice but to suppress her internal struggles as they left to take on the next unpredictable day.

 By the time they arrived downstairs and exited through the lobby, they quickly noticed that the beach was abnormally tranquil that particular morning; usually, at least a few early risers would be out walking along the shore or sipping their coffee in lawn chairs. The resort had been packed all week, but today it was entirely barren. Eyes shifted back and forth among the group, peculiar scenarios such as these were rarely a coincidence.

 "Maybe, it's the cold," quipped Amethyst optimistically.

 "Or, maybe, we've overstayed our welcome," Vander replied.

 "Let's get to the ship then," Cirell ordered, gripping his pistol as he broke into long strides down the road.

 They continued briskly through the streets, spotting only a few people, but as they approached a crosswalk, Cirell overheard the conversation between some pedestrians waiting to cross. He couldn't make out every word, but he got the gist of it. A UPDA ship had encountered an entire SRA fleet in orbit, and a single cruiser had just passed nearby within the hour, dropping some troops who were looking for a small band of mercenaries.

 Cirell's eyes scanned every window and doorway. An entire fleet dispatched to find them? He felt that it was a bit of an overkill for a small group of three, but considering the damage they had dealt to Baracus, maybe, it wasn't. This flustered the master tactician; a squad or a platoon, he could deal with but not an entire company backed by a fleet of warships.

 "Clearly, the UPDA is not going to make it to the rendezvous point on time," he declared in frustration.

 Amethyst glanced between Vander and Cirell. She could sense their suppressed frustration, making her feel uncomfortable. Following Cirell's lead though, they altered course and headed down a back alley, crossed several streets and moved towards an industrial complex.

 Eventually, they reached their hidden port, a large warehouse well past its prime. As they neared it, Cirell's ears twitched when he heard muffled sounds from inside; although barely discernible, they were enough to raise an alarm. Once again, his hand fell to his sidearm, this time gripping it and partially drawing it from the holster. The small weapon was white with gold embroidery and made a soft whirring sound as he tightened his grip. He peeked through the crack in the doors but saw only their drop ship and a few abandoned large crates. The ship was a fairly large troop transport with wide wings and rotating thrusters built into each; it was a pretty standard-looking Harkness drop ship, although it had been painted over by the trio to cover up the SRA logo. The ramp on the back was closed, which Cirell had remote access to from the tactical pad on his wrist.

 Motioning the others to follow, he opened the door slowly, pistol drawn. They approached the ship, but barely a few steps into the room, he noticed an SRA beret lying on a crate.

 "Get to cover!" he commanded.

 Vander grabbed Amethyst and sprinted behind a crate, Cirell following close behind as a dozen well-armed SRA militia sprung from hiding. Shots were fired throughout the warehouse, both sides slowly losing cover as the crates fell apart. Taking a deep breath, Cirell dipped from his cover, charging and firing his energy blaster with pinpoint accuracy, hitting two of the soldiers in the head and searing their flesh. Vander laid down suppressive fire on the remaining men, while Cirell continued to outflank them. The sound of an SRA officer's radio could be heard through the blend of laser and ballistic gunfire, probably a response to a call for help. Cirell pressed to the right, still landing shots with incredible accuracy.

 Within a minute, half of the militia were dead, and the rest were running for cover. There was a lull; everyone was either reloading or too hesitant to risk a move. Even Cirell didn't risk leaving his cover. It was a short sprint to their ship but with the soldiers still maintaining a perimeter, there was no sure way to get on board, let alone get out of the planet's atmosphere. They needed to move fast, as enemy reinforcements were surely on their way.

 Before anyone could invent any solution for their dilemma, a shadow loomed over Vander and Amethyst ... it was a Ythrian, a wild but tameable beast that the SRA didn't hesitate to sacrifice. They turned to face the new threat. He had skin with varying hues, ranging between red, green and purple, and his four arms bulged seemingly unnaturally, which was common for Ythrians. The monster smashed the ground, separating Vander from Amethyst. It lunged towards Cirell, but before any proper attack could occur, Vander pulled out a tomahawk, which he always concealed under his jacket, and pierced the Ythrian's spine with a heavy thrust. Vander was quickly swatted aside but had pissed off the Ythrian enough to keep it engaged in combat. In addition, Vander was no longer behind the protective crate, unveiling a target that the SRA gleefully fired upon.

 Cirell chanced upon this golden opportunity to sprint with Amethyst to the ship. He grabbed her hand, and they quickly jumped on board. The enemy barely noticed them before they had made it to safety, Vander, however, was barely visible among the blurs and flashes of gun fire that sought his demise. He kept low, crawling as fast as he could to a different crate to hide behind. Fortunately, the dust and smoke enveloping the room cloaked him, and he reached his salvation nearly unscathed, only a few lasers barely grazed him. He reloaded his SMG and fired back at the SRA, forcing their heads down and buying him a few seconds to move before the Ythrian came for him again.

 Cirell had no way of getting Vander on the ship, however, not until the SRA were thinned out more. He had no choice but to seal off the door.

 "We aren't leaving!" Amethyst yelled in protest as Cirell moved for the cockpit.

 "Oh really … Amethyst?" he replied, both sarcastic and annoyed. As always, he had a plan in his head.

 He slid into the pilot seat and swiped his hand over a holographic dial, rotating his fingers clockwise. The ship's thrusters ignited and flared, scorching the metal floor beneath it. The gentle roaring of the engines within the confined warehouse disoriented the soldiers below.

 Vander grimaced, expecting the worst as the Ythrian boldly strode across the ground where he had clumsily escaped death, but then there was a hiccup in the ship's engine, a loud crack, followed by an inferno that torched several of the remaining crates, forcing the Ythrian to temporarily break off his attack. Vander seized his chance, sprinting for the ship and fervently hoping the doors would open in time. The soldiers targeted him as he ran fearlessly across the burning building. The doors slid open and Amethyst stood, hand outstretched. As Vander clasped her hand, he smiled.

 Suddenly an electrically charged bolt hit his upper leg, a shot fired by one of the SRA who had ignored the flames dancing around him. 

 Vander yelped in pain as he slipped out of Amethyst's weak grip. He fell, landing on his back with a thud and crack.

 "Vander!" Amethyst shrieked as she collapsed to her knees.

 The Ythrian charged at him, bloodthirsty, but his combat instinct kicked in. He rolled aside as the demonic fists slammed the ground where he landed just seconds ago. Jumping to his feet and shaking off the intense pain, Vander took a few steps forward until he was only a foot away from the Ythrian, who had just now realized that the Duskan was not beneath its deathly blow. He gripped the monster's neck, stepping on its still lowered fist as a boost to swing himself onto its back, and using all his strength to hold on tightly, he slashed its throat with his tomahawk. The Ythrian flailed, unable to reach Vander and with a final bloodcurdling cry, collapsed with a thundering impact.

 Cirell spun the drop ship, extending and firing the deafening, under-mounted mini-guns at the SRA, who once again retreated for cover as he kept the ship lowered, allowing Vander to board.

 "Veronica! You said nobody was here!" Cirell yelled as he swiped his finger from his tablet to the screen on the dash.

 "My apologies, Colonel," a soft voice replied with an accent nearly identical to that of a British human. A silver-tinted hologram of a Malruutian woman appeared on a pedestal at the ship's main console. She was dressed in a formal uniform and stood about one foot tall. "They didn't show up on the grid, I can't identify why," she said, bemused.

 Cirell sighed, choosing to focus on an escape plan.

 "Vander, you onboard?" he shouted through the open door behind him.

 "Yeah, barely," he grunted in return from the rear troop bay.

 Cirell spotted the wound on Vander's leg as he glanced backward, but with everyone onboard, he could now attempt their escape. The reinforcement SRA ships were surely on their way by now, leaving him no choice but to take immediate action. He pushed on a small lever to the side, lifting them straight up through the opened roof above. As he gained altitude, however, he saw hostile fighters approaching from the east.

 "Strap in tight, guys! Veronica, how many?"

 "Four, sir. Shall I plot an evasive course?"

 "No, I've got it. Focus on countermeasures."

 He assumed full control of the ship and maneuvered it between several tall resort buildings.

 The enemy ships followed him into the open city streets, all firing their mini-guns. The lasers grazed the side of their drop ship, some absorbed directly into the exterior shields, while others ricocheted off as he tried desperately to weave in and out of the streets. His ship was 20 x 30 meters, forcing him to know exactly where he was heading next. He had almost no room for error, although they were fortunate that most of the city consisted of resort buildings with large properties instead of standard narrow streets like most cities. The thrusters on the wings rotated and spun as he shifted his stick, aggressively straining the small but heavy drop ship's hull.

 The fighters launched several missiles, which Veronica quickly countered with a Vulcan II beam cannon, a top-mounted, laser-based anti-missile defense system. 

 "Hold on!" Cirell yelled.

 He pulled the control stick tight against him, arching the ship straight up along the side of a building. Two of the fighters attempted to follow but instead rammed into the building on their ascent, sending a rolling fireball up the side. The two others that trailed behind, however, managed to stay in the hunt. Cirell evaded a few other buildings before exiting the city and heading for the forested region. His mind raced as his eyes scanned every possible route.

 The ship shuddered gently as Veronica countered another volley.

 "We have any missiles left?" Cirell asked her.

 "One, sir."

 "Make it count," he added as he pulled the flaps up, slowing them down.

 The reverse thrusters roared and the ship rattled violently, but the SRA fighters were still going too fast. They spun to avoid the slowing drop ship, passing it and ending up in Cirell's sights.

 "On you, V," he said as he accelerated. 

 Veronica fired the missile directly towards the two fighters, detonating it as it flew between them; the concussion and fragments effectively blew off their wings and forced them to crash into the thick forest below, one erupting into a fireball.

 They had dealt with the fighters, but in the distance, Cirell could see the SRA cruiser approaching, closing in at a much higher speed than his little ship could outrun. He had to keep his course. Watching the cruiser slowly gain on them was discomforting, what more was concerning, though, was the fact that they were well within targeting range for a warship, which meant the SRA wanted them alive.

 Cirell paced his breathing. He hadn't gotten everyone this far to die now.

 "Veronica, what classification is that ship?" he asked urgently.

 "Rapture Class, sir. We have to leave the system. That's the only option," she replied. 

 He nodded and continued to fly upward. 

 "Guys, hold on back there!" Cirell yelled as he aimed straight up.

 He pulled a lever and engaged the launch boosters, making the ship violently rattle as the thrusters spewed flames, leaving a thick smoke trail behind. Cirell glanced out the window as the cruiser now arched its path from below, also beginning its launch sequence. It didn't take long for the Cruiser's boosters to ignite, but it slowly fell off from the view in Cirell's cockpit.

 After a few minutes of being shaken, they exited the planet's atmosphere, yet they were still unsure of their new destination. Cirell looked into the distance to see the fleet that was still engaging the UPDA warship. Any single UPDA vessel could handle a few SRA ships, but this time they were far too outnumbered. He sighed and shook his head in disbelief, knowing that the lone ship and everyone on board would be lost. From here, the flashes of rockets hitting its hull were dim, but he couldn't seem to look away. An entire crew was being obliterated to escort one VIP, one young woman … and for reasons that were classified to them.

 Cirell was only one of, maybe, a dozen people even aware of what was happening and who Amethyst really was. He still had no idea how much Vander even knew; it was something they didn't discuss. His thoughts didn't last long though, they couldn't; he needed to focus on the task at hand, whisking Amethyst to safety.

 He stared at the 3D map to his right, showing each and every star system in the galaxy. Even with the entire galaxy before his eyes, he had no idea where to go. This frustrated him, leaving him with a sense of failure, something he was rarely known for.

 "Veronica, what's going on everywhere else?" he finally asked in desperation.

 "We cannot make a straight run for Earth or any planets in its solar system. SRA are engaging several UPDA fleets between here and there, not to mention their warp scanners and outposts. We could make a longer, less direct approach outside of the cluster, through the void if tha…"

 "No," Cirell interrupted. "It's too risky."

 "Yes. But no Trakc ships have been seen in over a year."

 "It's not happening, Veronica. Assuming that's true, we still don't have enough intel to plot a course there anyway," Cirell insisted forcefully.

 "Well … the Pilanderin System is in a full state of war, and the Yellow System is getting too dangerous to seek refuge. It's become a red zone since Kevra Prime got attacked. They're getting hit … hard," Veronica informed.

 This made Cirell sigh. Holding his head between clenched hands, he pondered, carefully assessing each option but still unable to come up with an idea.

 Further back on the small craft, Vander sat in the closet-sized medical bay that was built in just behind the cockpit. He tended to his wound, which exposed a small chunk of seared flesh. If it weren't for the adrenaline of the moment, he would never have made it on board. He poured an antibacterial liquid over it, slamming his back against the wall as he grunted. The wound sizzled as a white foam coated it, but blood continued to trickle onto the floor.

 The door hissed as it opened, and he turned his head to see Amethyst. She walked in slowly, wearing a frown of concern; but upon seeing his wound, she burst into tears, feeling as if it were her fault.

 "I'm sorry I dropped you," she cried, unable to control her guilt.

 "It's fine, Amethyst," he said softly, still clenching his injury.

 She knelt at his side, gently placing an arm around his shoulder in an attempt to hug him without applying any pressure to his wound. Although he was injured, she was safe again, for now. As she pressed her head into his shoulder, she smiled, though tears still stained her cheeks. This man was the closest thing to family, or friend... this man was all she had. Ironically though, they were never supposed to become so close, or even close at all. He was hired to ferry her from the lab on Amishay, to Earth, and he was chosen specifically because of his hardened exterior, the 'get shit done at all costs' kind of attitude. Few things made it through his shell, a trait acquired in his dark past. There was something about her that spoke to him on a personal level though, it was a feeling he was struggling to adapt to. He held her in return for a brief moment, but the reality of the situation came back to them as Vander grunted in pain.

 Amethyst mopped up his wound, struggling to hold back her emotions. It took only a few minutes for them to dress the wound and finish up; she tightened the wrapping as he slid his pants back up. While he clipped his belt buckle in, she put another wrap over the hole in his pants. She pulled him up and helped him limp out of the small medical bay, entering the cargo hold and looking through the open cockpit doorway. They could see that Cirell was still busily assessing their limited options … and with the cruiser on their tails, they were running out of time.

 Finally, Cirell stood to the side of his seat and spoke.

 "Veronica ... I need you to plot a course to Malruut."

 The AI reappeared on the pedestal.

 "Sir? Malruut? Will they take them in?"

 "They will if they're with me."

 "But that takes us even closer to SRA territory, Colonel. Is that the best option?"

 "Veronica!" he raised his voice angrily, upsetting Amethyst, who was listening from the doorway unknowingly to him. "Set the coordinates," he continued.

 "Yes sir," she said, looking at the ground for a brief second. "That should do," she reported, bringing her soft eyes to his. "You're sure this is the best option, sir?" she now asked cautiously.

 "Honestly, no. But I'm making the call," he admitted.

 "Understood. Warp drive is primed and ready. Shall I engage?"

 Cirell nodded affirmatively and held on tightly as the ship stuttered and then tore through space. He shifted his stance to a more relaxed pose. They had escaped, but a heavy burden seemed to crush in on him.

 "Hey, V?" he said quietly, eliciting a soft, concerned look from his AI companion. "I'm not going to lie, I'm … worried to return home."

 "Scared we'll be followed, or to see your family?" she asked.

 "Yes … both. This is not a journey home; it is a necessary stop on a combat mission. I just don't want to get Laurana's hopes up, and Serenity wasn't even old enough to know me when I left."

 "Yes, we've been away many years now, but your wife loved you very much, and I'm sure she will understand, even if she takes it hard." Veronica paused, assessing the situation. "As for your daughter, I have not met her and have not archived her personality, so I cannot predict an accurate reaction."

 "That's the problem, V. I don't know her either. And I am worried to just show up like this, but we're out of options, and Vander is hurt pretty badly. We need somewhere safe to stay so we can recover."

 Veronica placed her hands into a folded position in front of her stomach, slightly leaning forward.

 "Cirell, may I speak … internally?" she asked softly.

 "Sure," he said with a sigh, leaning against the arm of the pilot seat.

 "When we left, you never got to say goodbye. You never got to explain your reason for leaving so suddenly. Six years, you've been out here fighting, risking your life. You've sacrificed everything for the UPDA to help ensure victory, and in that, you've not contacted home even once. I think you deserve to stay home for a while, even if that means putting the mission second for a few days. As you said, Vander is hurt, and there are really not a lot of options right now. So what I'm saying is … maybe while we're home, try to be with your family."

 Cirell knew Veronica was just an AI, but she spoke with logic and reason. Even with her 'internal' thoughts, she still made good points. He had been away for six years of his life with no way to contact home. If a transmission were intercepted to Malruut, the SRA could view that as an act of hostility, dragging his world needlessly into a war that they've managed to avoid thus far.

 He let out another heavy sigh and stared at the floor for a moment.

 "Alright, Veronica. Thank you," he murmured gently.

 When he glanced up from the floor, he saw Vander and Amethyst standing just outside the doorway. 'How long had they been there?' As his mind explored this question, there was a seemingly infinite pause in the room. There was the hum of the engine, accompanied by occasional beeps or clicks from nearby computer systems controlled by Veronica.

 "I've got a place to stay," Cirell said calmly as he rose.

 Vander nodded, not wanting to say anything to frustrate him.

 Cirell walked quickly passed the others immediately after, clearly not enthusiastic about sharing his personal life.

 A few hours later, Cirell sat on one of the benches in the troop bay. He stared at the small warp drive that had been jury-rigged into the small ship, something most drop ships wouldn't be equipped with. Not only did it add a lot of weight and take up most of the space in the hold, but it was actually extremely dangerous; if anything went wrong or if it took any damage, it would likely mean the end of them, not to mention the amount of radiation that it gave off. Without it though, they probably wouldn't have been able to outrun the cruiser on Fontaine and would have been left with nowhere to go. Cirell watched the device glow as he kept his emotions in check, but it was no easy task. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, allowing his burdens to hold him down for now.

 During this time, Vander and Amethyst remained in the cockpit, idling in the pilot seats. Vander watched her tuck her things under the seat while she occasionally glanced back at him. They had overheard the conversation between Cirell and Veronica, so as Amethyst finished getting ready to sleep, she finally broached the subject.

 "So ... Cirell left his baby daughter?" she began, harshly.

 "No. It's not like that," Vander started, wanting to carefully choose his words, taking a moment to ensure he didn't make things worse. "He didn't just up and leave her, Amethyst. As they said, he didn't get the chance to say goodbye."

 Keeping on track, Amethyst continued to question.

 "But how could he do that? I mean, she is his child."

 Vander simply stared at her with nothing to say. Amethyst looked back into his eyes, seeing his gaze, making her direct approach dissolve into a haze of emotion. She struggled for words until finally she croaked out in a broken voice, "Didn't he love her?"

 Vander struggled. He knew abandonment was something she understood all too well. Normally, he would leave her to her own sorrows, but he got up from his seat, placing his hand on her arm and rubbing gently. It was no secret to him that she was calmed by his touch; it was something he held close to what was left of his heart.

 "What could make someone abandon the one they should love more than anyone, Vander? Who could leave that type of ... perfect love?" Amethyst said in her still cracked voice.

 "Amethyst," Vander began, but any words of comfort he might find were drowned out by his over-analytical mind.

 "What could make that happen, Vander? What kind of ... horrid reality could force that kind of betrayal? He left! He just left with no goodbyes! I don't get it, Vander!" She now let tears stream her cheeks.

 "We're at war, Amethyst. The whole galaxy is at war. But he had his reasons ... good ones. Malruut isn't a part of this war, and he's never proven himself dishonorable."

 Amethyst was still unsatisfied. "He was trying to help against the SRA, okay?" Vander continued, "They were making a move, and he was …"

 "Fuck that excuse," Amethyst interrupted.

 "Hey!" Vander burst out, losing his tolerance. "He had noble motives and made a sacrifice. Don't make this about you and your issues!" His voice began to soften. "I know your father left you … but this is not the same. Cirell did not want to leave his daughter, or his wife."

 Amethyst stopped dead, stung by this. "... Let's get some sleep," he added in annoyance.

 He quickly resumed his protector role: calm, alert and comforting. "Amethyst, I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to do that. Just ... Cirell and I fight side by side, and you and I both know he's a good man. He's the reason we're both alive."

 Amethyst nodded, mustering a smile for him. She knew she had been harsh and unsettled him, although she was still shaken by his unusual response. Usually, he was immovable in any way, nothing reached him on an emotional level, but she had clearly hit a nerve.

 "Sorry" was all she mustered as she left for the troop bay to get some sleep. This day couldn't end soon enough.

 That night, however, like the many troubled nights before them, Amethyst dreamt...

 A silhouette of a person appeared in front of her, and another behind him. The rear one wore a lab coat, had long hair, and was skinny. The man in the front was hard to distinguish, aside from his messy hair.

 "Goodbye," The man had said, faceless, nameless, and emotionless. His voice was raspy and hollow.

 "Daddy?" Amethyst instinctively cried in a high-pitched, cracked voice. She didn't know why, but she obviously knew somehow that this was her father. "Daddy wait, please!" she bawled frantically as the shadowed man turned and walked a short distance to the short woman in the lab coat.

 The scientist gave something in an envelope to her father.

 "You're sure about this, Mr. Strouss?" she asked while glancing at Amethyst.

 He did not speak but nodded. "We'll take good care of her then." the scientist said in a feminine voice as the man walked away.

 "Daddy, no!" Amethyst cried.

 The other figure approached her menacingly, making Amethyst feel small. Then she realized that she was a child; her voice had been higher-pitched, and everyone towered over her. As the figure came nearer, arms outstretched, she yelled. "Daddy! Don't leave me! Please, Daddy! DADDY?"

 "Hey! It's alright," a familiar voice calmed her.

 Amethyst awoke with Vander kneeling at her side and her blankets disheveled on the bed mat. She looked down, realizing she was bleeding from her wrist; she had clearly dug her nails into her arm again. Vander held her wrist, gripping the wound she'd inflicted on herself. "It's okay, Ame," he whispered to her as he leaned close. "I gotcha."

 She sobbed into him, breaking down once again. She was already prone to emotional distress due to her empathy, but the day itself had emotionally drained her.

 "Daddy," she whispered through her gasping sobs. "Daddy ... daddy ..." Over and over.

 Vander closed his eyes as he sat next to her and listened to her repeat the word again and again. He was aware she seemed insane, but he also knew she wasn't. After what they had done to her in the lab, what they had made her, it wasn't her fault that her emotions were berserk. She was emotional by nature, which was only aggravated further by her ability to sense the emotions of others. She was frequently enraged or distraught, only ever heeding his comforting.

 As he listened to her sobs, he felt his own rage build. 'I'll kill that bastard one day.' He thought to himself, which was foolish, as Amethyst would surely sense his anger. He quickly shook off the idea, replacing it with his duty to keep her alive. He got the first aid kit and tended to her wrist.

 Once Amethyst was somewhat calm and taken care of, Vander left her side to remain in the cockpit for the rest of the night. Through the door, he listened to her being tormented by her dreams, the one thing he couldn't protect her from.