Omega Academy Page 5

  Ceredes steps forward and dips his chin only a little. “We jumped aboard the shuttle without prior authorization.”

  “Why?” Master Harlan crosses his cerulean arms over his wide chest.

  I stare past him as Lana disappears into the Omega Academy, High Commander Bartanz leading her forward with a briskness that rubs me raw. Why the interest in this Omega?

  “Jeren!” Master Harlan barks my name, and I finally give him my attention.

  “Master?”

  “I know this had to be your idea.” He glowers, his yellow eyes reptilian and utterly pissed. “You’ve dragged Kyte and Ceredes into trouble with your foolish little rebellion. You can’t afford another demerit. After this, I’ll petition to the High Commander to expel you from the—”

  “It was my idea.” Ceredes lifts his chin. “I convinced Kyte and Jeren to come with me.”

  My eyebrows hit my hairline, and Kyte’s mouth drops open. I expect to be expelled, to be tossed into the universe on my ass and forever banished from the Gretar Fleet, or perhaps be sent to labor on a supply planet—until I escape. I have no reason to stay. My eyes travel to the Omega Academy, to the doors Lana just passed through. No reason to stay, I remind myself. Me winding up with that pretty Omega is just as impossible as Ceredes taking the fall for my bullshit. But here we are. I try to wipe the surprise from my face as Master Harlan swings his glare back to me.

  “I’ll take whatever punishment you see fit.” Ceredes keeps his head high.

  Master Harlan narrows his eyes and stares at all three of us in turn, though he lingers longest on me. “All three of you get to class,” he barks. “I’ll decide on punishment later.”

  “Yes, Master Harlan,” we all say in unison and take off toward the Alpha Academy at a jog.

  The Four Corners Fountain sparkles to my right, the circle of warriors at its base still the most famous in all the fleet, even if they’re only statues now.

  Ceredes shakes his head a little, as if chastising himself. I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Once we’re out of earshot from Master Harlan, I ask, “Commander Ceredes, what in the Pillars has gotten into you?”

  “Shut up, Jeren.” He picks up the pace.

  Kyte and I race to keep up. “You took the fall. Why?”

  “I said shut up, Jeren.” He pushes through the wide double doors into the Alpha Academy—glass, polished metal, and stone greeting us at every turn as we climb the curved stairs.

  I grab his shoulder and yank him around, though it takes more strength than I’d imagined. “You just saved my Larenoan ass. I want to know why.”

  His expression sours even more. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does.” I’ve never had anyone so much as offer their hand to me since I’ve been at the academy. Larenoans are maligned throughout the galaxies as pirates and thieves. The ink on my body and my dark attributes mark me as one of them. I’m proud of my clan, but that doesn’t get me any points with the other Alphas, especially not the ones from the ruling races.

  “You saved my ass, too.” Kyte grins. “Though my ass is much more attractive than Jeren’s, of course. If that’s the reason you saved mine, I respect it.”

  Ceredes sighs. “I don’t know why, okay? I just—” He slices his hand through the air. “Reacted. And it felt right.” He rolls his shoulders. “I think that Omega got under my skin or something. Maybe her needing messed with my mind.”

  “Mmhmm.” I’m not convinced.

  “Technically, her needing would make you more aggressive toward other Alphas. But—” Kyte rubs the golden band on one arm, a thoughtful look on his face. “But we didn’t turn on each other at all. That Omega didn’t have us at each other’s throats.”

  “So?” Ceredes snipes.

  Kyte raises a golden eyebrow. “So, there might be something there.”

  “Like what?” I have a vague sense of where he’s going with this, but I don’t believe it for a second. Ceredes taking the fall is out of character, but his usual character gripes my ass even on the best days. We aren’t compatible as anything more than Alpha rivals.

  “A circle can form when Alphas meet their centering Omega.” Kyte gives us each a serious look, all teasing gone from his demeanor.

  “You’re saying Lana is our Omega and we’re a circle?” I laugh, the sound bouncing off the glass ceiling and back down to us. “You, Commander-Hardass-Perfect-Student, and you, a Calarian noble, and me, a Larenoan?” A belly laugh shakes through me. “In a circle? Together?”

  Kyte looks unamused. “You felt it with her. That’s why you’re laughing. Because you’re trying to hide it.”

  “No, he’s laughing because he’s an asshole.” Ceredes throws his hands up. “I should’ve never covered for you. That way, you’d be out of here on the first transport, and I’d be rid of your shit.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help.” Suddenly sober, I move toward him. “I don’t need any help from a Gretar Fleet kiss-ass like you.”

  “One more step, Jeren.” Ceredes bristles. “One more step.”

  “And you’ll what?” I’d love a fight, a chance to test myself against the Bellatian commander.

  “Guys.” Kyte shoves us apart.

  His touch shoots through me like a spear, and a connection sparks into life, one that takes me through Kyte and Ceredes, each of their minds whispering to me. The feeling fades and I blink hard. “What in the Pillars was that?”

  Kyte looks at his hands, his eyes wide. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t try to pull some Calarian mind shit on me, Kyte.” Ceredes fists his hands.

  “I didn’t.” Kyte rubs his temples. “That wasn’t me.”

  “Then what was it?” I can still sense Ceredes’s confusion about taking the fall—even he doesn’t know why he did it. How do I know that? And how do I know Kyte truly believes we’re part of a circle, one with Lana at the center?

  “I told you. I think that Omega may be …” Kyte shrugs, letting the thought hang in the air.

  I glance down the hall as Tarvan appears, his white stripe of hair waving slightly with his brisk steps. “Shit. Dicknose is coming.”

  Kyte snorts. “Well if that isn’t the perfect name for him.”

  Tarvan’s high squeaking voice is a needle in my ear. “All three of you are supposed to be in class. Master—”

  “Piss off, Tarvan.” Ceredes turns and strides past the Furantian, the end of his nose upturned and slightly indented in the center like all Furantians. Yeah, dicknose.

  “This will be a demerit for all of you.” He pulls a small comms device from his pocket and speaks into it.

  Ceredes grabs it, crushing it in his fist without even flexing.

  Tarvan squeaks as the huge male walks past him.

  I follow Ceredes, making sure to bump into Tarvan so hard he almost falls on his ass. Kyte comes along, too, and all three of us stride down the hall together.

  Like a unit.

  No, like a circle.

  7

  Lana

  “There’s been some mistake.” I think I’ve said that phrase a dozen times, but whoever I’m talking to—whether it’s the scary boss man person with the military medals, or the lady with the eyes that are attached to some sort of antenna on top of her forehead, or the pink girl who says she’s here to escort me to my dorm—they just ignore it. As if I never spoke at all.

  “I’m not going to a dorm. I’m going home.” I cross my arms over my chest as the girl with the dusty pink skin stares at me with mild interest and strong dislike. She turns to the googly-eyed woman. “Master Carna?”

  “You will go to your dorm and change into the appropriate attire, then you will go to class. I’ve already wasted far too much time cleaning you up.” The woman’s voice is clipped, and she keeps glancing at the door the man left through.

  My clothes are neat, and all the mud is gone thanks to some odd shower-like contraption that melted away any bit of dirt and left everything else
squeaky clean. It’s just more proof that I’m dreaming.

  “The high commander gave strict instructions, and I intend to follow them.” She points a long, veiny finger, her big eyes stretching toward me on their snail-like bases. “If you embarrass me in front of High Commander Bartanz, you will regret it. I promise you that. Now go.” Her sharp tone is like a slap, and I step back.

  I’ve never been a quitter, unfortunately. “I’m not supposed to be here. Please, send me back, is all I’m saying.”

  “I’m the head of the Omega Academy, and I say you’re staying.” Master Carna rises, though her googly eyes stay level with mine. “And I also say you are going to do what you’re told. If you disagree, I can arrange a punishment that will get you on track. Do you understand?”

  I swallow hard. “I … Yes.”

  “Good.” She sits and pulls her eyes back. “Go.”

  “Come on.” The pink one gestures down a long hall flooded with light from high windows. She wears a uniform of some sort, one that looks similar to Ceredes’s outfit, though hers has a short gray skirt that shows off her light pink legs. With a huff, she pushes me forward. “I said move.”

  I glance at the doors behind me, the ones that lead outside. If I can get back to that shuttle, surely it can take me home. I just have to be fast. Okay, so maybe I don’t run track, but I’ve done my fair share of sprinting from assholes like Van or dodging my mother’s sloppy fists. I can do this. Just a burst of speed, and then I can escape from this nightmare place. “Eye of the Tiger” starts playing in my mind. I’ve got this.

  “Omega.” The pink one twirls her cotton candy lavender hair around a finger. “You’re beginning to stimulate my anger impulses.”

  I take a step toward her, and she turns and strides down the long hall.

  This is my chance. With a lunge, I turn, slam through the doors, and race out into the blinding day. Some people—more aliens?—sit around a nearby fountain, but I ignore them. I’m getting out of here, no matter what it takes. Pushing myself as hard as I can, I thunder across the stone ground. The shuttle is ahead, and someone seems to be working on it. Maybe I can get them to drive it for me? This plan is coming together perfectly.

  At least, it is until the pink girl appears in front of me so abruptly that I try to stop, stumble, and then fall on my face. A roar of laughter goes up from the people around the fountain as my nose crunches against the solid ground. I hit so hard that everything inside me jars and vibrates as my mind tries to come to grips with the explosion of pain and humiliation. I taste blood.

  “Don’t be stupid.” Pinky sounds bored as she taps her foot beside my head. “Get up.”

  It takes a moment for my brain to stop sloshing around between my ears, but I push myself off the ground and sit back on my knees. Swiping my fingers across my nose, they come away red. How many times has my nose been busted? I have no idea, but this is definitely one of the worst. I pride myself on not letting Mom actually break the bone, but my streak may be over.

  She huffs with annoyance. “Now we’ll have to stop at the infirmary. You’re making me late, human.” She grabs my arms and pulls me up, her grip surprisingly strong as she hustles me back to the Omega Academy. We pass the fountain where the students gawk at me. It’s not just a fountain. Four statues form the corners of it, all of them on one knee with their hands uplifted holding a basin that water cascades from. Their expressions are as different as they are—one stern, one almost laughing, one that’s … “Hey, that one’s kind of familiar.” I try to pull from Pinky’s grip.

  “Of course they’re familiar.” She sighs and tugs harder. “They’re the most famous circle of all time.”

  “The most famous what?” I can’t free myself from her yanking grip even though I’d like to make another escape attempt. “Just let me go.”

  “Go where, human?” She drags me into the academy, past the googly-eyed woman who looks like she’s about to blow a gasket, and down the sunny hallway as if I weigh no more than a toddler.

  “Home.” My blood drops onto the smooth, polished floor.

  “Congratulations. You’re home.” She shoves me along another side hall, then into a wide room with empty hospital beds covered in crisp, white linen. Everything is white, in fact, from the walls to the squeaky-clean floor. Another drop of blood splatters down onto it, making a slight plop and marring the perfectly blank canvas.

  A man rises from a small desk near the door. “And what do we have here?” He approaches, and I sag with relief when I see his face is completely normal—no horns, no googly eyes, no weird colors. “Oh, that looks nasty.”

  Pinky shoves me onto the nearest bed and lounges on the one across from me. “Took a tumble out on the plaza.”

  “Sorry to hear that. What’s your name, Omega?” His voice is gentle even though he’s a particularly large man. Are all the men around here hulks?

  “Lana.”

  “What a lovely name. I’m Onin.” He presses a button on a black bracelet around his left wrist, and a clear, filmy substance covers his hands. Gloves? “This might sting a little, but I need to check the bone.”

  “Okay.” I hold my breath as he runs his fingers along my nose. I wince but don’t cry. Crying would always make Mom angrier for some reason. So I learned long ago to bottle that shit up. I’m sure it’s a perfectly healthy way to deal with emotional trauma, right?

  “Intact. Good.” He smiles a little. “I just need to clean it up a bit.”

  “I’m late to Master Lintaru’s class.” Pinky yawns. “That means you’re late, too.” She points at me. “And I’ll be sure to place the blame where it belongs once we get there.”

  “No need for rudeness.” Onin wipes my nose with some sort of antiseptic-smelling cloth.

  The scraped skin burns, but then feels cool. My head gets a little light from the weird pain and coolness mix.

  “Whoa.” Someone steadies me as Onin keeps working on my nose.

  “A few more wipes and this will be taken care of.” He dabs gently.

  My head clears and I look around to see who’s holding me up.

  No one. No one is there. My breath catches when I realize it’s Onin. Two of his arms grip mine to keep me upright, and two others work on my nose. Four arms. He. Has. Four. Arms.

  “You have four arms.” I gawk.

  “Wow. Super observant as well as graceful.” Pinky snorts.

  “I’m a Cartarian.” He maintains his gentle tone. “My people usually have six arms, but I’m mixed with a two-handed race, so I’m defective.”

  “Defective?” I wrinkle my nose, yelp, then stop.

  “Cartarians can be a bit …” He shrugs. “They are set in their ways. Difference is not something they appreciate. But the Gretar Fleet took me in, trained me, and now I’m the head medical officer for all Omega cadets. Not too bad for a four-armed Omega, right?” His smile is so warm. I wonder if I can just stay here with him instead of going wherever Pinky drags me to next.

  “Hang on, you’re an Omega? I thought they were all, you know, girls?”

  “Omegas are from all different races and genders.” He finishes dabbing my nose and applies a plaster. “Now, I could use a healing scanner on this, but I don’t have anything calibrated for your species. Which is what, by the way?”

  “Um, human?” I don’t know why I ask it as a question. “Human,” I say, this time more confidently.

  “Human.” He nods. “I’ll have to look into that. I believe you’re the first of your kind admitted to the Omega Academy. You’re on suppressants, yes?”

  “There was one on the shuttle thing. I used that.”

  “That should be good for six months.” Tapping on a small screen he seems to have pulled out of nowhere, he adds, “The time is different here because it’s based on the Centari sun instead of the one from your galaxy, but the idea is the same.” He slides the screen away. “Time is, of course, nothing more than a convention and entirely relative. Anyway, you’re set for now.”<
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  I’m still back on the suppressant injection. “What does it do?” I look at the spot on my arm.

  “Is she serious?” Pinky shakes her head. “What sort of backwards, low-tech, idiot planet are you from?”

  Onin ignores her. “Suppressants keep you from going into needing. It occurs every few months or so for Omegas. During that time, you are fertile, and your hormones spike, which serves as a call to any nearby Alphas that you are primed for mating. Alphas are unable to resist the urge to mate once you’re in full needing, and Omegas can’t deny themselves, either. The suppressants allow the Omegas to learn here in peace and remain in control of their needing phases and choices for Alphas.”

  “So you’re saying all this revolves around …” My cheeks burn, but I try to act like an adult. “Sex?”

  “Yes.” He says it so matter-of-factly.

  This is what the guys on the ship were talking about. They tried to explain, but I was already losing my mind over the whole kidnapped-by-hot-aliens problem, so I didn’t really follow. Now I do.

  “You have come of age—your maturity evident in your body and also your mind. You’ve already experienced your first needing?”

  “On the ship thing, I think.” I bite my lip. “I’ve been having these really bad cramps, but I wasn’t on my period. Then again, my period has never made sense. I can go months without it. But on the ship with Ceredes and—”

  “Ceredes?” Pinky snaps to attention. “You went into needing with Ceredes?” Her scary eyes narrow.

  “I guess? But then I used the suppressant so—”

  “Profligate,” she hisses.

  “Ilwen!” Onin raises his voice for the first time. “You will not use that word in my infirmary, do you understand me?”

  Her sour face squinches even more. “Yes.”

  He points a finger at her. “Now, apologize.”

  “She doesn’t have to.” I clear my throat, the taste of blood finally dissipating. “I don’t even know what that word means.”

  He turns to me, his kind eyes softening. “It’s the vilest of curses she could throw at you.”