chapter one

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It was winter. It had to be. The air around him was so cold that it burned his skin into a rose shade of red and wracked down to his bones where they shook with need. But someone held him still. Someone's arm, skinny but warm, was splayed across his chest to keep him pinned motionless and another one was pressed tightly against his own to his right.

There were sirens blaring louder than airplanes taking off over his head: reds, blues, even whites flashing almost comically against a house that looked too foreign to have been his but too familiar to be a stranger's. He's sure he's seen the black and white cars before — somewhere not just then in their spot just a couple of feet in front of him.

Why were they there? What did these people want from them?

Screams. Loud, ear piercing, almost horrified and pained. Who was it? Where did they come from? Everyone surrounding him was blurred, faceless, emotionless.

Was it him?

"Luke."

What was happening?

"Luke!"

Who was that staring in his direction from behind the caged window?

"Luke Hemmings!"

*

He woke up with an out-of-body jolt strong enough to rattle his heavy bed frame, his eyes wide and heart hammering as someone pounded heavily on his door. His heart paced in time with the rapid knocks, quick and unrelenting while sweat was pouring from his skin and causing sheets to stick to his skin as if they were his clothes. Two seconds he needed, just a couple of moments to separate his dream from reality was needed, but he didn't have the luxury of unscrambling his head.

Without taking the time to catch his missing breath, he jumped out of bed and then ran to the front door, immediately pulling it open.

Angry grey eyes gazed back at him, hard like steel and cold like the night, a familiar hold taking over his body as they glowered down at him. His right hand hiking to his eyebrow and his fingers grazing his messy hair, he was taller and bigger than the man but he still held such a strong monopoly over the beat of his heart, the vibrations of his vocal cords, and the movement of his bones.

One. Hold. His hand stayed firmly pressed against his skin, grease from his sweat sticking them together.

Two. Ahead. His eyes didn't meet his commanding officer's; they stayed pointed straight at the wall in front of him, unmoving and uncurious of his surroundings.

Three. Speak. His voice was shaking, but held steady enough.

"Yes, sir?"

"You're late." He hissed and Luke swallowed back his growing anxiety at having angered him. "Get your uniform on, Commander, and get to your class before you are put on weekend yard maintenance and late night engineering. Have I made myself clear?"

His lip curled downwards, heart racing unevenly as his arm slacked. "Yes... father."

"I expect your behavior sorted out ASAP." He stated firmly. "There are no room for mistakes, and we both know I do not tolerate laziness or failures. You have ten minutes to get on Academy premises — fifteen to get to your classroom. Do not disappoint me."

Luke nodded, and his father glared at him. "Y-Yes, father. Right away, sir." He corrected himself as the man marched away.

"Oh, and Luke?" He called as the blond lowered his arm to rest by his side.

"Yes, father?"

"Squeeze in a shower as well." He scrunched his nose up and the adult paled as he watched his commanding officer walk away.

He had ten minutes to get to the school fifteen minutes away, fifteen minutes to get to a classroom twenty away, and had to shower before he left?

He sighed as he realized a date with the engineers was inevitable, and then shut the door as he pressed his hand against his face in irritation. It wasn't fair, but he was going to adhere to his orders regardless. His father's word was law after all.

-

"He's just a kid. How could Mr. Hemmings be so sure of his capabilities?"

He sighed as he swirled his coffee around in his mug, eyes trained on the grey table as he counted every speck of black he could find. It was like counting stars in the night sky, only he was inside and he hasn't actually seen a midnight star in who knows how long. He can't even remember what they look like, but he knows they're balls of hot gas that are unfathomable amounts of miles away. That's enough information to imagine them, tiny little speckles of light in a blanket of blackness. Are they as dull and lifeless as they look in textbooks? He can't remember anymore.

After his hectic schedule of teaching his headache worthy students for seven hours, dealing with his equally as tiresome colleagues for three extra hours, his own online college courses, and forcing himself to go beyond any other single person at the school just so people can have the smallest ounce of respect for him, he didn't have time to stop and gaze at the sky like he used to. It was work, then straight to sleep before having to wake up at five in the morning every day just to repeat it again. And again. And again.

He likes it though. It makes things easy to have it so scheduled. There's no time to ruin his life with drugs, faulty relationships, or even little accidents like car crashes or falling down stairs. It's safe. It's familiar, and who needs to go clubbing on Friday nights or watch television for three hours straight? Why do nothing when he can help the Academy and be something more, something memorable.

He wants to be memorable.

"Hey," he heard and he smiled a little grin as one of the only teachers who wasn't a complete jerk sat beside him. "- I heard Mr. Hemmings had a go at you when you got on campus."

Luke shrugged as he took a sip of his bitter coffee, the shade matching his colleague's eyes. "What did I expect? I was negligent. My first class went thirty minutes without a professor."

"Rough morning? We all have those." He chuckled lightly, and the blond nodded shamefully. "I know Alex ate your lunch, so I got you this."

He held out a white box and Luke looked at him with wide eyes. "It's tacos: beef with no sauce and extra lemon."

He smiled bigger. "Thank you, Mr. Hood." He took it and then flipped the lid open. "I appreciate it. I can pay you back -"

"- don't make it a big deal." He huffed. "Just because I bought you lunch doesn't mean we're brothers or whatever. I also don't want other people to know. What do I look like, someone's bloody assistant?"

Luke didn't answer. He just picked up a one of the four tacos and raised it to his mouth to bite into.

"I know you have engineering duty, so you can't go passing out with the power tools or whatever they use and die. Just take it easy, alright? We all have bad days... today just happens to be your's." He defended himself before standing up and tossing his own garbage out. "Oh, and I took tomorrow's lesson plan for the upperclassmen. You can make another before class, right?"

Luke hung his head low, and before he could reply, the teacher had already shut the door and took off. As usual. What did he expect?

Looks like he had to rewrite half of tomorrow's class plans before he gets to school. He sighed after swallowing his food, his left eye twitching in agitation at the idea of having to stay up late just to map his first three classes. That was the sixth time that month, and it had only two weeks into the month. He didn't understand why he couldn't just write his own plans. It isn't that hard.

He wasn't even hungry anymore, so he took the white container and then slid it across to some other officer. "Ms. Deaton, by all means, it's your's." He mumbled before standing up and grabbing his bag.

"Oh, I'm -"

He left before she could even finish her sentence, and then went and walked the catwalk through the aircraft room. He could hear the echoed clank as hammers came down or the hiss of fire as torches went off. "Hey," someone chuckled as they spotted him coming down the spiral stairs. "- Mr. Junior Hemmings, what a surprise. I haven't seen you around here lately."

"How can I help?" He asked kindly, setting his bag down as he grabbed a pair of spare gloves. The man rubbed his chin while looking, and Luke felt a wave of fatigue hit as he saw tools, grease, and cables running every inch of the place.

"Kyle looks like he needs help connecting the..."

Luke's brain spun away from the task at hand, unsure whether this man was speaking english or if he was talking in a made up language only engineers would know. Not that he can't help fix a few cut wires, a blown engine, or a jammed fuel pipe — it was something he had to learn before becoming an administrator, but he couldn't dissect a plane and then put it completely back together as good as new. He just wasn't an engineer.

"- but that would be too hard considering the entire panel would have to be removed and if we cut power to the wrong part then we'd have an even bigger issue on our hands and you're really just a teacher who explains how stars die so putting you in charge -"

"- you're rambling." Luke cut him off and he smiled.

"Sorry. We don't get help often. Everyone just kind of avoids us, so thanks Luke. It means a lot." He apologized before handing him a bag. "Just go ask if anyone has scraps that needs to be tosses for now."

Could he be anymore useless?

-

The moon rolled in, perched high in the sky and casting its shadow across the rocky terrain. The traffic was horrible right now, everyone was coming home or leaving to the city since Friday nights were designated going-out nights. So he had against his motorcycle and stares out over the dry desert in front of him, his heart twisting as he felt outcasted among the sand and hills. Although he's seen this sight a million tomes before, it felt so strange, almost like he was holding his breath and waiting.

What is he waiting for? This was his home.

The Academy was his home. He's been there for as long as he could remember, a student turned professor. He graduated earlier than anyone else there, just sixteen as he walked across the stage with a bunch of eighteen and nineteen year olds. At eighteen, he was getting degrees and certificates for teaching from the senior officers who worked him to the bone day and night. The administration there was his family, but they were cold and harsh.

They just cared, he would tell himself.

The city twenty minutes away was his home as well because there rested the mansion he grew up in: eight full bathrooms, ten master sized bedrooms, twin marble stairways rimmed with glittering gold, intricate chandeliers with diamond crystals, and halls so grand they could have been a museum. Three stories with an infinity pool that fell off into the ocean that uses to scare him but now just feel void. He remembers the rooms he'd run around in with his brother Jack, and how even if something was his fault Jack would take the blame.

He doesn't remember him very well, but he knows there was screaming and blood when they were pried from each other. There's a hole in his chest when he thinks about him, an empty chill that floods his veins as he even imagines Jack standing beside him today. He hopes he would be proud. He hopes he would smile big and wide, wider than his father ever grinned at him, and tell him how he's doing good. No, that he's doing fucking great.

But he isn't there. He hasn't been in a long time. It's just him and his father, and no matter what he does he would never get that kind of satisfaction from him. He couldn't make the old man smile even the smallest of grins. He couldn't make him speak even the smallest of praise.

He wiped his eye with his sleeve before looking down at the dirt beneath his feet. "You're pathetic." He scolded himself before taking a deep breath and looking up.

It was cloudy. Thick, ash grey puffs of cotton laid above his head and blocking all of the stars. It's kind of bullshit, if Luke's being honest. The one day he has time to gaze and they're gone. It wasn't fair.

"Is that..."

It was bright. A circular shade of red and white that got bigger as the seconds ticked by. Shooting star? No, one wasn't scheduled to visibly pass by for weeks. Meteor? It couldn't be, showers weren't planned for another three weeks. Besides, it was hurling right toward them. With their technology, they would have noticed a power source or disturbance before it got closer than the moon. This wasn't on any radar he's seen, and if it was, no one was talking about it.

But he closed his eyes and sighed, feeling stupid as he made a silent wish upon the unknown object. Who knows, maybe it'll wipe out the entire planet like the meteor did with the dinosaurs all those years ago.

The school was blaring sirens, knocking him out of his head and back into reality. Loud, echoed wails that resembled that of an ambulance as a panicked voice came over on the speakers. "Code red. Lockdown uniform foxtrot Oscar. Students are to remain in their dorm rooms. Faculty are to remain in doors. Code red. Lock-"

Luke slid his helmet on, turning his head away ad he heard a loud crash and a wave of dust and dirt flew into the air at impact. An almost Earthquake like shake rattled his stance, and he picked up the kickstand with his foot.

He wanted to leave it to the professionals. He was in no way entitled to help or serve whatever it was that came crashing from the atmosphere, but something was drawing him to the crash. Stupidity? Curiosity? The need to one up all his fellow colleagues for bragging rights so they can't make fun of him anymore? Finally getting something out of his father that could be even the ghost of a compliment?

Whatever it was that was driving him, it had Luke jamming his key into the ignition and revving his engine before zooming off from the parking lot to the crash site. He knew the rovers the Academy sported weren't meant for speed but to carry people from end to end. If he timed things right then he could get in and get out before he was even spotted and whatever it was could be his to turn in. It would be his discovery as the first to see it up close and in person.

He hoped this was good.


2561 words

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